Verto Genus
by Solus Rom Veritus
Summary: Harry finds out Draco is a Veela after casting an unknown spell that will change their lives. . .HPDM.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, places or names. The only thing original here is my plot (I hope).  
  
Readers Note: This is being reposted. It was formerly named 'Virga Genus' but I checked my latin and well. . . All problems have been fixed by my beta reader EVENING FAERIE, the wonderful! I hope you enjoy! __________________________________________________________________  
  
"Verto Genus!"  
  
The clear and enraged voice of Harry Potter rang out through the empty halls of Hogwarts, a dazzling display of lights shooting towards his opponent.  
  
Neither he nor Draco Malfoy, curled on the floor screaming in agony, knew what the curse was, what it would do or even if Draco would live. But before Harry had a chance to figure that out, he found himself pulled back by his hood and thrown down the hall by the looming figure of Professor Snape, with his piercing gaze so completely filled with hate it almost made the 17 year old boy yelp in fear. That look could make him feel 11 years old again.  
  
He reminded himself this man had no power over him. It was a mistake. They would never get him in any real trouble. They couldn't afford to loose him. He was, after all, the murderer they loved to hate. Either that or the victim they loved to pity, which wasn't an option he liked to think about. Better murderer then murdered.  
  
"Go to the Headmasters office now! I will meet you there after I take Draco to Madam Pomfrey. You'll be lucky to escape Azkaban for this, Potter."  
  
Melodramatic surely? Harry knew they would never send him away. Dumbledore certainly would protect him with his life. The end of Harry Potter would mean the end of the wizarding world. Or perhaps more accurately, the end of the muggle world. They NEEDED him to do their dirty work.  
  
That thought was, for once, comforting as he made his way to Dumbledores' office. Contemplating to himself as to where that curse had come from and why he hadn't taken Latin. Hermoine was right. The only way to know what every possible spell an opponent could throw at you was to speak the language of the gods. The language of wizards. What ever those words were, and what ever they did to Malfoy, would not be a mystery had he just taken that class!  
  
With a mumbled password and an only slightly guilty feeling, Harry made his way up the spiral stairs. Draco and he were the only people staying at Hogwarts during the holidays. The Dursleys had had enough, and thanks to Harry, the Malfoys were locked away. They were orphans, in a sense. Harry had Dumbledore there for him and Draco had Snape. But without any other company, duels were an inevitable occurrence. And now, in the last week of holidays, another one couldn't really be all that bad. The students would be back tomorrow. Draco had called Hermoine a mudblood whore, it was nothing new. For two years now, the boys had lived at Hogwarts full time. This was becoming a weekly ritual. As were Snape's overreactions to anything that befell his precious Malfoy.  
  
Dumbledore was sitting pensively at his desk, going through some unknown papers. Harry had once asked what paperwork kept the Headmaster so busy and was presented with a 'join the dots' of a puppy in a bow tie. It was much easier to respect the man when you thought he was doing something important. So, Harry shifted into denial and waited for Dumbledore to come to a break in his 'important' work before speaking.  
  
The wait was not too long and but a few minutes passed before the old man's head rose to twinkle at Harry like a grandfather would. Or an overly polished Grandfather clock.  
  
"Surely not another duel with Mr. Malfoy? As wards of the school, you are technically brothers. Can you not find any common ground? Hmmm?"  
  
"I'm sorry, sir. He called Hermoine a bad name. A REALLY bad name. Not the usual one. There were extra bits. I just. he deserved it."  
  
The Headmaster gave him a pointed look over his glasses and Harry lowered his head in shame. Well, in mock shame. There wasn't a force on earth that could make him feel bad about cursing Malfoy, but disobeying the Headmaster was a separate thing. At least it was in his head. The two did tend to go together, but that was only because Dumbledore insisted on asking him NOT to curse the blond. Harry couldn't help thinking that if the headmaster really wanted him to obey, he should stop making that part of the rules. A truly Griffindoor thought, if he'd ever had one.  
  
"Where is he? Severus didn't catch you again did he? You know, Harry, I spend hours listening to him vent when you hurt his godson. He is rather protective over Draco. Couldn't you just not curse him for me? To save an old man's head from aching?"  
  
But god, the man was good. Harry had to wonder, like thousands before him, if there was a secret school to learn that kind of manipulation. If the Headmaster were a graduate it would explain a lot. He would have to remember also, to ask him which house he was in, at school. Somehow every time Harry asked, he would leave toughly amused and satisfied until 3 am the next morning when a sleepy and dreaming mind would realise Dumbledore had not, in fact, answered the question.  
  
"Professor Snape took him to the hospital wing. I don't know why though. I don't know what I did. I didn't even know the curse, and I still don't."  
  
Dumbledore seemed genuinely stunned by this confession. The Malfoy boy could look after himself generally, and very few hospital trips were made, given the amount of duelling the boys were wont to do. Not only that, but, how could Harry have cast a curse without knowing what it was? The whole idea was utterly baffling. A spell is not a random thing, there are specific wand movements for each incantation, which are much too hard to fluke.  
  
"Do you know what you said, Harry?"  
  
"Umm, I think 'Versus Gerorum'? Or something like that. The first word started with a 'V' and the second with a 'G'. It may have hurt him, I suppose. He was doubled up screaming on the floor. . ."  
  
Harry mumbled the last part, hoping that the Headmaster would not hear nor ask him to repeat it. That way he would still have told the truth.  
  
All hopes of worming out of any immediate trouble were banished when Snape burst in the room with a murderous expression and stormed straight past Harry to Dumbledore's desk.  
  
"You have to get rid of that menace! HE cast a highly complex and dangerous DARK Arts curse on my student! ON MY GODSON!"  
  
Harry was stunned into silence, indignation coursing through his veins. He did not! He didn't even know any Dark Arts curses! How could he have cast something he doesn't even know!  
  
Before Harry had a chance to voice his objection Snape was ranting again.  
  
"I'm telling you Headmaster, he is a risk to the entire school! He refuses to cooperate in his Occlumency lessons and now has an open access pass into the Dark Lord's brain. He can use him like a 'dangerous and illegal curses' filing cabinet. And for what? NAME CALLING?!?! How do you expect he will react when the school fills up? His temper will get someone killed!"  
  
While Dumbledore tried to placate Snape, Harrys' head was spinning in dread. What had he done? While his hatred for the blond was most definitely real, he had become somewhat of a familiar presence. Taking Draco out of his life was a disturbance. A change. And however pleasant it may be it was still one he wasn't ready to submit to.  
  
A second thought hit him too. He had access to Voldermort's brain? Whatever kind of sick spells would be locked away in that mad mans head he know were sure to be terrible! How could he disagree with his fuming professor? After all, he had not cursed Draco intentionally. He still had no idea what he had done! But it was done none the less.  
  
A deafening silence shattered Harrys' thoughts and he looked up into the expectant eyes of his mentor. Snape scowled in his peripheral, arms crossed defensively, waiting to rebuttal to any of the boy's responses.  
  
"I'm sorry? What?"  
  
Harry looked up to Professor Dumbledore for the question he missed.  
  
"Harry you have no idea what you did to young Draco?"  
  
"No."  
  
A sigh escaped the old man before he continued.  
  
"It's called Verto Genus. It will have a particular effect on Mr. Malfoy because of his blood. Are you aware of what the Malfoys are?"  
  
"Purebloods?"  
  
Snape sneered down at what he felt to be an utterly ridicules response to an equally inane question. Luckily for Harry Dumbledore continued before Snape could comment.  
  
"No, Harry. They are Veelas. Do you know what Veelas are?"  
  
Unable to stand still a moment longer Professor Snape exploded.  
  
"WOULD you stop coddling him?!? Of course he knows what Veelas are! He has been studying Defence Against the Dark Arts in this school for 6 years! If there is a single student who doesn't know what the hell a Veela is, it's because of your incompetence when choosing your staff members! He does NOT need you to baby him! He NEEDS to be taught a bloody lesson!"  
  
The Headmaster merely smiled at the enraged man. Both the smiling and explosions from Snape were an entirely too common occurrence. While absently picking a lemon drop from the bowl on his desk, Dumbledore answered in curiosity,  
  
"I can't be that bad at hiring surely? Although some do seem to disagree with me. Werewolves and Aurors and Death Eaters. certainly most of those people would find that no one else would hire them."  
  
Snape went back to standing defensively, arms crossed high and protectively over his chest. For Dumbledore, that was as close as it got to an open threat. Harry decided to break in on what seemed to be an ongoing argument.  
  
"The creatures from the world cup? And that Fleur girl? From the Triwizard Tournament? Are you sure, sir? It's just. I've never felt the urge to throw myself at either Draco or Lucius. They're probably two of the most repulsive people I know."  
  
Harry then turned his head to Snape, looking him in eye.  
  
"I'd go so far as to say they are the second and third most repulsive people I know. Do you want to know who gets the number one place, Professor? You'd never guess."  
  
Dumbledore tisked at Harry and reprimanded him in the very diplomatic and grandfatherly manner he was known for.  
  
"Now, Harry. Do as I say, not as I do. Professor Snape is your superior and my employee. There are vast differences in the way we may each react to him. now, enough of talking about Severus as if he is not standing here fuming at us! What do you know about Veela men?"  
  
The first thing Harry was going to say stopped in his throat when he realised that it was in fact all about the women. No one had ever really mentioned Veela men before. He would even go so far as to say they did not exist.  
  
"Nothing, Sir."  
  
A snort and pointed look from Snape was ignored by the Headmaster as he continued.  
  
"Well. That is most likely because there is nothing to tell. They are physically stronger then human men, but have a rather interesting distaste of using that strength, so much that many believe it to be a myth. The most stunning thing about a Veela male is, in fact, that there is nothing stunning about them at all. Unlike their female counterparts, Veela men display no magnetic pull, no wings, no beak and no magical powers beyond that of a wizard.  
  
A pause for a breath and the old man was talking again. Harry was almost certain he was trying to explain everything before Snape could cut in with his unwavering temper.  
  
"Now, do you know what Verto means? That was the first word to your curse. No? It means change. I'm sure you can guess what Genus means. But I will tell you that Miss Malfoy will be experiencing all of the problems typically shown in a Veela woman, and will find it no doubt annoying, confusing and most definitely dangerous. You do understand what I'm saying Harry? Genus means Gender. You have turned Draco into a Girl using a very powerful, and to my knowledge, irreversible Dark Arts spell you could not have possibly known."  
  
Frozen in a mix of relief and shock, Harry gave a little smile to himself. Snape clearly found that to be an inappropriate response because Harry was lifted a good foot into the air by the front of his robes before his body had completely relaxed. It wasn't meant to be a gloating smile, he was actually relieved that Draco wasn't dead. Although Harry felt Snape would not believe this explanation.  
  
Snape's scowling face focused on him as he, yet again, displayed his lack of self-control.  
  
"You think this is funny, do you? I have the perfect punishment for him. If you'll just let me take him down to the dungeons, I would be more then happy to perform a castration. No doubt his bits would be nice in a jar full of embalming fluid!"  
  
A pallid and suddenly sweating Potter looked frantically to the Headmaster for confirmation that permission would not be granted. He rather liked his bits were they were.  
  
"Severus, do put him down. You know very well I will let you do no such thing. Two wrongs do not make a right."  
  
Snape cut in, still staring at Harry like a potion ingredient begging to be dissected.  
  
"No, but they make a very happy Potions master!"  
  
The Headmaster continued, unperturbed,  
  
". and I have a punishment for Harry, which is a right rather then a wrong. NOT surgical removal. I assure you it will last for as long as Mr. Malfoy finds himself changed. Even if that is forever."  
  
Snape dropped the boy into an unceremonious heap and turned to the Headmaster once more, a gasping and only somewhat relieved Potter at his feet forgotten with the promise of punishment.  
  
A raised and questioning eyebrow from Snape prompted the Headmaster to continue,  
  
"Draco will need a new name. He, or she rather, will need to be moved and will need to be given a bodyguard. The rest of the school cannot find out, so we will make up something about Durmstrang and a sister staying here in his place. Harry should make a suitable guard. He has already shown skill in defending others, and it is after all his fault that Miss Malfoy will need defending. Should she be changed forever Harry will be forever in her service, as you well know Severus. And if it is pain you want, I'm sure Draco will enjoy getting to bite Mr. Potter as much as you would enjoy a good castration?"  
  
To much information to quickly and Harry's head was spinning. He had to ask,  
  
"Protection from what?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled down at him in a rather sad manner. Only a little congratulations placed in that smile for returning to the land of the articulate.  
  
"This is a school, Harry. A school filled with hormonal boys, no less. Draco's honour will need to be guarded."  
  
A snort came from Snape again and slightly amused black eyes turned to Harry. A sarcastic drawl falling from his lips,  
  
"You will forgive him. He's a hundred years old after all. What he means is those hormone-filled delinquents will be returning tomorrow and many will find a beautiful blond with Veela blood just a little too tempting. You will make sure he is not raped, kissed or so much as groped without permission."  
  
A look at Dumbledore and the Potions master continued,  
  
"And believe me, a Veela is no prune whose virtue needs defending. She will no doubt give someone permission. And you are not only guarding Draco and her dubious honour. Should someone offend her too much, she may lawfully eat them, as is a Veelas want, and right by law."  
  
A small squeak issued itself form the Potter's lips resembling the words,  
  
"Bite me?"  
  
An utterly stupid thing to say, Harry knew this. With all the incoming information, there were better questions to be asked. But as with most people, fear drives curiosity much more then mild interest. Snape's eyes glinted and an evil smile curved his mouth. He was taking entirely too much pleasure from his response to the obviously frightened boy,  
  
"Yes. Bite you. With long fangs in your neck. To mark you with another scar. So everyone knows you belong to her."  
  
Harry gulped. Belonged? That didn't sound good.  
  
"Why? To humiliate me?"  
  
Dumbledore decided to cut in before Severus caused the boy to faint, and in a weary voice answered his question,  
  
"No Harry. My dear boy, have I ever asked you to do something purely for your humiliation? What good is a guard who cannot control himself any better then everyone else? If Draco did noes bite you, you will become just another potential threat. And, one who lives with her in her private (and well locked) rooms, no less. I'm sure she'd eat you within the day."  
  
And so, a bewildered and now utterly guilt ridden Potter made his way to the hospital wing. To get his first glimpse of Miss Malfoy and to let her bite him. To mark him. To own him. perhaps forever. 


	2. Chapter Two

Standing outside the door to the hospital wing stood a very nervous, scared and only a little curious green-eyed boy. Beyond those doors stood his doom. His victim. His possible owner. His enemy, who HE accidentally gave more power too. After a few deep breaths, he opened the door to reveal the biggest temper tantrum witnessed since his days with those god awful muggles.  
  
A stunning blond girl, around 5'8, wearing only an oversized, button down, slytherin shirt (which thankfully or not covered only to her very upper thighs) was throwing a tray of food across the room at the far wall. The ingredients scattered as the stout and elderly woman Harry knew as Madam Pomfrey stood back up from her crouched position on the floor to give a somewhat scared look to her model-like patient before running into her office to hide.  
  
The walls still echoing the sound of shattering metal, the blond turned to Harry and sneered with complete and utter hatred. And Harry's heart filled with love and want so fast he fell to his knees in adoration.  
  
"What are YOU doing here, Scarhead? Come to point and gloat have you? Or are you just saying goodbye on your way to your expulsion?"  
  
The words were lost on the kneeling boy as he felt a wave of gratitude. She spoke to him! She even had a nickname for him! Scarhead! Oh, what wonderful words of poetry! He would simply have to prove his worth!  
  
Malfoy stood above him, towering down with utmost contempt as Harry debased himself for her approval, muttering love vows,  
  
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! I'm rich you know! Very, very rich! And famous too! Quite skilled on a broom, even if I do say so myself! I'd give you all the money and beautiful things you so obviously deserve! Just give a chance sweet angel!"  
  
Harry's pleading eyes looked up into cold grey ones that slowly melted, as a smirk replaced that wonderful sneer. The Potter boy had to use all his willpower to refrain from jumping her then and there.  
  
"Oh yes?" The goddess of light queried,  
  
"I didn't even think of this, Scarhead! What a powerful bloody spell you used! No glamour would turn you into some blubbering fool! (Although I would argue that you were one to start with.) You changed my DNA! Tell me, Potts, what would you do for me? Anything I ask?"  
  
Harry was flooded with relief and glee! She thought he was powerful! He couldn't quite remember what for. His memories were, after all, fuzzy when compared to this beauty. This goddess of glory! But he would not disappoint her! He quickly answered her in the affirmative,  
  
"Anything my love! Anything for you!"  
  
Nodding his head like mad, Harry watched this divine creature tilt her head to the side. Curiosity marked her features in the most elegant manner Harry had ever witnessed.  
  
"I don't believe you, Scarhead. I think you're just trying to get up my skirt."  
  
She then lifted her shirt just a fraction to emphasise her point and smooth milky thighs were exposed right at Harry's eye level. If she would only lift it 2 or 3 centimetres more, he would see EVERYTING! He started to salivate but somehow managed to stammer out,  
  
"NO! Anything you want! I'll prove it! Anything for you!"  
  
She dropped her shirt back down and the boy was tempted to shuffle forward and move it up himself. Surely there was no reason to keep it down except to tease and taunt him?  
  
His goddess seemed to consider this in an entirely gorgeous and overly dramatic way.  
  
"Alright, Potts. I'll let you prove it. I want your wand. Hand it over!"  
  
Harry considered it. He loved this woman. There was no doubt in his mind. But this was a request he wasn't sure about. His wand was very important to him. A little voice in the back of his head was screaming something he couldn't hear and was confusing him. What was he supposed to do? Draco saw this inner battle played out on Potter's face and crouched down in front of him, giving the boy a perfect and level view of his eyes. Although the green-eyed boy seemed to be looking about a foot lower to the unsupported breasts. Draco reached out and lifted Harry's chin, smiling as seductively as she could, although realistically it wasn't needed. Purring into Harry ear,  
  
"If you give me your wand, Scarhead, I'll put it somewhere VERY interesting. I promise."  
  
She stood back up and the boy fell over himself trying to get his wand out as quickly as humanly possible. He most definitely would like to see that! Maybe afterwards she'd let him put his other wand there too?  
  
Handing his Queen his wand, Harry watched expectantly as Draco lifted it high and placed a hand at either end. He wasn't sure how she would put his wand there while standing up and holding it so high. But there was a lot about the female anatomy he didn't know. He would just have to trust her judgement.  
  
Draco smirked gleefully with the wand in her hand. One little snap and perhaps Voldermort would finally be able to kill the little runt. But mere seconds before she was going to apply the pressure, the door to the infirmary opened and her godfather stormed in, looking flushed and sneering when he spotted the kneeling form of the wizarding world's saviour.  
  
"Draco dear, you really shouldn't do that. The Headmaster would be quite mad and may take back his offer."  
  
Draco stared at her only remaining blood relative not in prison. Second cousins or some such thing. She gave a small thank you to the gods that relatives were immune to her charms because incest was just a little to much right now, before her thoughts returned to that statement. Holding the wand in one arm by her side she queried,  
  
"What offer?"  
  
The Professor raised a brow at this and turned a hate-filled gaze to Harry who was eyeing him suspiciously like a potential threat. Snape's lip curled further at the audacity of it and sneered down at him,  
  
"You haven't told her, Potter? Honestly, did you think I wouldn't make sure she knew? And get up of the bloody floor, boy. You're making an arse of yourself!"  
  
Turning back to his god. daughter? Snape raised a hand to Draco and was rewarded with the wand. Harry did not stand up, but instead silently fumed that that greasy git got to touch something that was being touched by his lovely. The professor ignored his pointed looks and returned his attention to Draco,  
  
"I think I should keep this for now. He will be no doubt angry after you've marked him and this lunacy wears off. Dumbledore sends you a bodyguard with his kindest regards."  
  
Draco was stunned. She owned the Boy-Who-Lived? That was brilliant! She was going to ask what made everyone think this runty little Griffin-dog could protect her, before she realised he was powerful enough to create this mess. If nothing else, he deserved to spend forever trying to make her life a little easier. Malfoys have always been superior to Potters.  
  
She looked back up at her godfather.  
  
"Alright then, I'll take him! Sit down already, I'm gonna have some fun first."  
  
With that she turned her eyes back to the Potter boy, who was filled with relief at having her attention again. He mustn't waver or pause before obeying her again. That was entirely too close. If she left him he would kill himself! He HAD to be loved by this divine creature. She spoke in the voice of an angel,  
  
"So, Scarhead. What do you think of that Weasel? What about the Mudblood, too? And remember, Scarhead, I don't like them at all!"  
  
Trying to remember the reasons why his lovely disliked his lowly friends, Harry responded as fast as he could so as not to displease her,  
  
"I hate the Weasel. All of them actually. Stinking, filthy poor they are! Absolutely no good! And the Mudblood! Why, she's nothing but a know-it-all with her head stuck up her arse. Your infinitely better then either of them! It doesn't even compare, my sweet. They dirty your tongue when you speak their names! Too low for you to notice!"  
  
That ought to do it! Any moment now, Harry was sure this beauty would tell him that was the perfect answer, rip off that shirt and lay herself down for the taking. She simply had to, because if he got any harder he would explode. He looked up for confirmation and saw the divinely giggling face of the Malfoy girl. So beautiful! So great!  
  
She calmed herself and smiled down at him.  
  
"Oh, alright! I guess you've been a good boy. And I don't really like that look you're giving me. Unnerving, actually. Come over here and I'll fix you up."  
  
Harry was sure that was the invitation! He scrambled to his feet and made for her. One hand went to her thigh and he was about to lift the shirt when a pale and perfect hand stopped him. He looked up to her annoyed eyes, confused. That had been an invite, hadn't it? What did she think she was doing? Playing with him? She couldn't promise and then just take it back! He deserved this!  
  
The insane look in Potter's eyes was quite unnerving and Draco was reminded why his mother never left the house without extensive covering spells. Spells, which were considered Dark Arts, that he couldn't reproduce in a place like this. She smiled reassuringly at Harry, just a little worried.  
  
Harry would not be able to force himself on her, but she wasn't sure how the Headmaster would react if she had to eat him whole. She leaned into his neck and whispered into his ear,  
  
"Just a minute, love. I want to give you a love bite first. OK?"  
  
Relief flooded the boy and he nodded just a little. So close to her, her hair was sweeping by his nose. She smelled of strawberries and the flavour red. She smelled of lollies and dreams. Draco leaned in further and extended her teeth. Two inch canines, meant to be quite painful, sank into his flesh.  
  
Harry let out a yelp and raised his arms to her shoulders. She was his height, so it was rather easy to lean into her without toppling over. A searing pain throbbed through his neck and his brain was slowly focusing, a fog of uncertain memories and emotions swimming back to the fore. Draco Malfoy, his hated enemy, was biting him. Had made him befoul his friends' names. Had nearly broken his wand. Had nearly made him rape her in his pure unadulterated need to feel that a milky flesh. When she pulled away the only nice thought still in his mind was that she really did smell of red things and dreams.  
  
Harry pushed her away and raised a hand to his lightly bleeding neck as Snape called madam Pomfrey back from her office to heal his wound. And all Harry could think was: that bitch bit him! 


	3. Chapter Three

A quick thanks to Evening Faerie and the reviewers. Reviews = Encouragement = more chapters! ____________________________________________________________________ A quick healing spell and many glares later, Madam Pomfrey returned to her hide out to await their exit. She had cared for Veela women before, and it was not a pleasant experience. So temperamental! She was sure it was all those hormones.  
  
In the other room, Harry sat on a hospital bed, sulking about his earlier behaviour. Had he really done that? If Draco repeated it to anyone, Hermione would never forgive him! Ron wasn't a problem at least. His self- control around Veela women was notoriously low. He would no doubt be fending Ron off of Malfoy's arse at every turn. Especially if she insisted on walking around half bloody naked!  
  
"Why are you wearing that? Where are your pants?"  
  
He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed sooner! Well, if he was honest with himself, he had. It just didn't seem to be the kind of thing you complain about at the time. Three words. Gift horse, mouth.  
  
"They were uncomfortable! I have these big round hips now! I'll have you know that I had a rather slim and beautiful bum when I was a boy! NOT that my bum's big now, mind you. It's just a beautiful girl's bum."  
  
Harry couldn't believe his ears. He had never heard anyone say they liked their own backside. How vain would you have to be to insist that BOTH your behinds were nice, in the same breath? And Harry had thought that she was an eloquent goddess not moments before. Her almost cockney drawl was NOT eloquent. Where an aristocrat got an accent like that, Harry would never know. Perhaps Malfoy thought it was cool or something. Looking back at the pouting girl who was no doubt upset he hadn't agreed, he had to ask another question.  
  
"But surely you could have put on a hospital pair? They have them in all sizes, you know."  
  
The utterly disgusted look this suggestion was greeted with made Harry wonder what he had said that was so wrong. He hoped she didn't have a problem with clothing. Well, he hoped she didn't have a problem with clothing when outside their room. That would make his new job much harder. In private, she could walk around naked if she insisted. He would just have to deal with. Take one for the team and all that.  
  
"Are you joking, Scarhead? Have you SEEN the colour those things are? They're toothpaste green! Now, there's nothing wrong with green, don't get me wrong. I am a devoted Slytherin, after all! But 'toothpaste green' on my pail complexion? I'd look like some kind of junkie!"  
  
Harry raised a brow in disbelief, which was mirrored by an equally disbelieving Professor Snape. Draco had to be joking! Who was going to see him? Who CARED? He really had turned Draco into a girl!  
  
Snape's velvety voice cut into the silence,  
  
"You remind me of your father more with every passing day. Would you like me to have a house elf mail over some of your mother's clothes so you have a colour scheme that agrees with you pallid complexion?"  
  
Draco looked affronted and quickly replied,  
  
"PALLID! I said pale not pallid! Look who's talking! At least I don't look like a vampire! What the hell kind of Veela has black hair and eyes, anyway?"  
  
Snape got up with a small smile on his lips, decided to take that as a yes, and left the affronted blond and baffled brunet to their teenage nonsense. He loved Draco, really, but sometimes a 17 years old was a little to much for him. Ironic given his occupation.  
  
After a few minutes of what was an awkward silence for Harry and a contemplative one for Draco, the girl suddenly spoke up.  
  
"How big are you, Potter?"  
  
Harry had no idea what she meant, his height or his weight. He wasn't entirely sure he was willing to give her either. Was she going to call him short? Fat, perhaps. No that was impossible, skinny is more like.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
This seem to perplex and surprise the blond,  
  
"You don't know? You've never measured?"  
  
Oh! Well, short it is. He debated over telling the truth, and like any teenage boy, decided to add an inch just in case.  
  
"5'11. Why?"  
  
Draco suddenly burst out in laughter and fell back on the bed in hysterics. Harry tried not to notice that her shirt rode up just a little. He really did. Honest!  
  
"No Potter. Not that length! You do realise I'm a Veela right? I was gonna compare, you'd be convenient, if not that appealing."  
  
She gave him a calculating look as he tried desperately to pretend he still had no idea what she wanted. What the HELL was going on?  
  
Draco decided to give the boy a little concession,  
  
"Well I suppose you're alright looking, except for the glasses. Pomfrey can fix that up, you know? And while I'm sure I could do better, it's a little hot in here (pointing to herself to emphasize it is not the room which is heating up) and I have no idea what to do with my hands and this anatomy! I get one command too, you know, from biting you. So I think I'll make it so you can't tell anyone anything personal about me. Got it? No personal disclosure! Now take off those clothes and give us a look!"  
  
Harry was stunned. What the hell was that! He was not some gigolo who could be ordered around! In a firm and confident voice he answered her,  
  
"No. I will not. I'm not here for your pleasure."  
  
Draco pouted and leaned forward again.  
  
"Awww, come on, Scarhead! Think of it as an interview for the wonderful job of fucking me blind! I'll have to figure something out by tonight, at any rate. And I don't fancy being the school slut. YOU can't tell anyone and you'll be in my rooms already. It's perfect, really!"  
  
He was sure this was not normal. He called Madam Pomfrey back in and, with a heated and red face, explained why he thought that Miss Malfoy was 'broken'. To his somewhat relief/shock, she informed him with a frown at the girl that no, she was not broken. She was Veela. That WAS normal. And then Harry found himself promptly abandoned by the nurse, once again.  
  
"POTTER! Come on! Look if your worried about Pomfrey, then we can go to our rooms. That old hag told me where they were, before she tried to feed me that junk. It had CHEESE on it! No wonder she's so round! I have a very delicate body to look after here. And a very delicate diet to go with it."  
  
Continuing to ramble about the glory of being herself, the Malfoy girl grabbed his hand and dragged the bewildered boy off. What had happened to her? Where was the hate?  
  
On the way to their rooms (Or as Harry was to find out only minutes later, room, no 's') he insisted on stopping by the library to borrow 'All you need to know about Veelas'.  
  
It did not go unnoticed that Draco was progressively getting more 'friendly' as the night wore on, and at 11pm, the Boy-Who-Lived found himself pinned underneath a slightly glowing and sweating Veela, who insisted that he at least touch her with his hands if nothing else.  
  
Magnetic attraction turned off or no, that was too much for him, and Harry woke the next morning considerable less virginal then he was when he went to bed. 


	4. Chapter Four

"It's too hot!"  
  
Harry had no idea what she was talking about. It was snowing outside and he was quite cold. He sat in his four-poster on the opposite side of the room from Draco's, wondering how she could possibly pace back and forth in a singlet and nickers. Harry had no idea where she even got them and was afraid to ask. If they belonged to someone else, well, he didn't want to know.  
  
Draco was too hot! Her skin was on fire, and she itched! Not in places she could scratch herself. She would love to do it, but she had no idea how that worked. She'd only ever had sex with boys while being one and so, wasn't sure what to do.  
  
"Please, Potter?! Touch meeee!"  
  
She raced over to the end of his bed and crawled a little to fast to be called 'seductive' towards him. In fact, it was much more like a scurry. Harry held to his resolve. He was not a gigolo. She would just have to control herself. He turned back to his book and continued to read.  
  
"Veela women were claimed to have been invented by Gregoria Bush, a 7th century brothel owner who said, 'I was in want of a good lay, so I made me one hell of a one! An' she don't mind a good romp neither! Nay, she's being rather fond of it, and complains like mad if I don't bed her at least once a night. It's a credit to our community, that's what it is'. It was later found in the early 8th century that Mr. Bush found a Veela colony rather then inventing them."  
  
Draco couldn't believe it! Didn't Potter realise she was itchy? Who did he think he was? She climbed onto his lap, just behind his book, and tried to remove the offending object.  
  
"Potter! You don't understand! You're needed! Be the hero, help me before I fucking melt!"  
  
But Harry would not listen. He would ignore the beautiful woman throwing herself at him. Sitting on him. He was READING damn it and she wouldn't stop him! Those words repeated themselves as a mantra and he tried desperately to continue his book.  
  
". and since the first colony was found and integrated into wizarding society in France, 684, Veela have become highly integrated into the aristocracy of the land. While highly vocal in their physical needs, especially if gone unfulfilled, Veela are cold and distant when not yearning for touch. A Polar being who is in fact better suited to owning whores then being one."  
  
Harry was reading steadfast and Draco had had enough. She tried moving around a bit. The only sign that Potter noticed was a small swallow and a nervus tick that had started in his left eyebrow at some point.  
  
One would have thought seducing a 17 years old boy, with the looks Draco possessed, would be easy. But the stubbornness of a Potter was only matched by that of a Malfoy. She would have to try harder and by god, that was what she was going to do.  
  
Since Harry was sitting on his back in bed, with his knees up, book pulled close to his face and Veela sitting in his lap, Draco found it quite easy to lean back on the boy's knees like a chair. She started to make little moaning noises. How could he resist?  
  
"Oh Harry! Please touch me! Hmmmm. you know you want to."  
  
He read on,  
  
"The Veela women have little to no control over their desires at 24 hour intervals."  
  
She made a little whine in her throat,  
  
"The men have considerably more control, but much less power."  
  
She tried to remove the book again but he held tight,  
  
"Studies in the field have shown that the magnetic pull Veela women have builds up inside themselves, and can become heated and irritating if not seen to."  
  
He was trying to read. He really was, but from the corner of his eye (or what was increasingly becoming his main focus) Harry could see the beauty. That was it, he pounced,  
  
"OH, god!"  
  
Harry had no idea what he was doing! He had no idea what to do, but he had to do it now! Harry was in heaven. He would have wondered why he had tried to fight this, except that all thought processes were currently switched off. His chair was in its upright position and his tray table secure! He was a boy coming in for a landing.  
  
Once the afterglow had ended, Draco picked herself up and walked on somewhat shaky legs back her bed, a vision of an angel with the devils walk. That wonderful sway that just screams 'I just got my brains screwedout'. She climbed under her sheets and destroyed all visions of the fantasy woman that Harry had created since her mouth shut and hands started doing the talking,  
  
"Thanks for that, Scarhead. Same time tomorrow?"  
  
And she drifted to sleep, leaving a cursing boy awake in the room, wondering why he had forgotten for that wonderful moment (ahem, wonderful hour) that this beautiful woman was Draco Malfoy. Being a girl wouldn't change that. And tomorrow the school would fill up and she just might find someone more suitable for tomorrow night's itch. 


	5. Chapter Five

"Your name is Corepoya, we call you Cory for short, and you will introduce yourself as Cory Malfoy. After all, no one ever called you Draconis when you were a boy. You are exchanging with you brother, twin I might add. This is because your family hid you away for fear you may be seen as the heir. You are, after all, a minute older than your brother and no girl has been the first born for generations. The small scandal is enough to deflect the attention from the coincidence of Draco's departure with your arrival. It will not be enough to disgrace you; people will see it as pride on your father's part. Since you went to Drumstrang, you must have been loved enough for an education. No one will question a Malfoy anyway. Harry is your bodyguard as part of an alliance between your family and the side of the light, since Voldermort's followers are falling. You have switched sides. People will believe you have done something of considerable worth for Dumbledore, since the Golden Boy was given to you. All familiarity you may have with the other students can be explained away with excessive letters on your twin brother's part. All and any enquiries within Slytherin will be halted in the joy of realising Draco found them important enough to write about. You do not have a house, but report to me and have classes with Mr. Potter for your protection. Is that understood? Would you care to repeat it? Are you nervous? It's not too late to just leave, you know? I can tutor you back at the manor until we fix this mess."  
  
Snape was panicking. It was a weird thing to witness, this controlled train wreck of emotions, standing on the platform next to his two students, waiting for the arrival of the rest of the school.  
  
Harry was removed slightly from the group. Draco, or Cory, had pretended that nothing had happened. It was a monumental event for the brunet boy. He wasn't a virgin anymore! He was a man. A man forgotten by his 'lover', once she was done.  
  
Draco didn't seem to notice his turmoil. Or perhaps she didn't care. She had enjoyed last night, but it was not her first time in bed with someone. Blaise had been her regular fuck buddy for about a year now. She did not, by any means, love him, but he was good. The butterflies in her stomach were because she had never thought to ask the boy if he liked girls too in his previous existence. Such things had never bothered 'Draco'. The boy she had been wanted Blaise. It was that simple. What the Italian did in his own time was of no consequences.  
  
But wether Blaise was up for some experimentation with the differences between her two anatomies or not, Harry would be able to take the edge off. She didn't know why he was so prudish about it at first. Everyone wanted to sleep with her! But, no! That Griffyndor had to try and prove he was above everyone. She actually had to beg him to help out. It was unbelievable and it was unacceptable! He would just have to get used to being pushed around, that was all.  
  
She knew she would be safe in her choices. Blaise was always tight-lipped about their after-dark activities. People could speculate all they wanted, as long as Blaise never confirmed it, she would still be a respected upper- class woman. Surely two would be enough? Her mother had once told her that four men was a decadence unacceptable. Narcissa had her husband for money and her bed, but also two boys of different looks and 'types' locked away in separate wings. Draco had never seen these men, but she had asked her father once why he did not keep extra women, or men, of his own. It was not appropriate. This had baffled the then boy? Not appropriate? Then why could his mother keep two! His father had explained,  
  
"She is a Veela woman, Draco. That is somewhat different. Your mother and I are not in love, we have never been. But we are good friends. It would be seen as an insult for me to keep a lover here. It would be saying a Veela woman is not enough, which she is. But her mind is not like yours or mine. This is not a mutually exclusive arrangement for her."  
  
Draco had looked on, even more confused. It would be inappropriate for a Veela man, or a normal wizard of either sex, to keep extra lovers? But his mother was, for some reason, allowed a certain number of them? He knew his parents were not in love, they had never pretended to be. But they complimented each other and Lucius never so much as looked at another woman.  
  
"Draco, my son, you will understand your mother one day, I have no doubt. We will find you a Veela woman and she will be too much for you. The truth is that I do keep lovers in the manor. I keep lovers for your mother so that I may rest. She is more then enough for me and those two together, but no one man would ever be enough for her. It is biological; people cannot disapprove of a blind man not being able to see. People can not disapprove of a Veela woman having lovers."  
  
Draco had been speculative for years, but now she understood. Last night she had nearly exploded! What would have happen to her mother when Lucius was away if those others were not locked up in there towers? She suddenly realised why her parents were allowed to share a cell in Azkaban. A ten years sentence, because of that goody too shoes Potter. She would thoroughly enjoy using him. She'd chew him up and spit him out every night and there wasn't a thing the brunet could do about it. He belonged to her.  
  
The train approached and her godfather placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Harry was slowly moving away, inch by inch. The professor had promised to take care of Draco for the day, so Harry could run off to see his friends. It seemed, at first, a rather un-Snape thing to do, but he suspected the professor thought that Harry would run off anyway and leave the students to be eaten and his goddaughter to be attacked.  
  
When the train pulled up and the students evacuated, Harry was once again, like every year, tackled by a flying brown blur of a hug. Hermione squealing with glee, in a manner she only exhibited after long term separation, and was followed by his red head friend's smiling face and warm greeting,  
  
"Hello, Harry! God, we missed ya. I'm sure your holiday was an absolute nightmare! If that git did anything you, just tell me and I'll pound him for ya."  
  
Translated out of Weasley that means, 'I'm really sorry I wasn't allowed to stay here with you, or you come stay with us. I realise your holiday must have been bad and I'm sympathetic'. Harry was very aware that Ron would never say that he cared directly, but he also knew that the sentiment was there. Hermione let go and smiled up at him.  
  
"Its really good to see you, Harry! Have you finished all you holiday homework? I was so worried about your essays without me here to help you. You didn't owl me your drafts! I kept telling you to, so I could mark them and send them back, and you kept writing me letters completely ignoring your work! We had better get inside right now and go through all your assignments. I'll help you but you really should have done them sooner! Do you know how busy you'll be, tonight? We'll be up for hours in the library!"  
  
Harry had to cut off this rant before it got too out of control. He could see where it was going, the library had been mentioned, and soon the prospect would no longer seem unwelcome to the bushy haired girl. It was slowly morphing from a burden to a fun time for all the family. He quickly reassured her,  
  
"Hermione! I promise I've finished all my work. I even handed in my potions essay early. They're all done, we're going to go in and have dinner and have a nice chat before I'm summoned back to that bitch's side!"  
  
He didn't mean to bring it up this way. He really didn't! But the confused looks he received from his two friends over this sudden change in mood told Harry that he now would really have to skip dinner to explain about Draco.  
  
He was not going to tell them about 'Cory'. Hermione would see right through it, anyway. So, with a heavy heart and the promise of answers, Harry led his best friends to his private rooms to discuss his new predicament. 


	6. Chapter Six

Locked away in a conference room in the library sat three very silent teens. Harry was starting to regret this. Maybe he could tell them about Cory. Ron would believe him, pat him on the back with congratulations.  
  
No, that wasn't right. Ron would bitch and moan about Harry getting all the good stuff. Complain that if only his family were dead he'd have been here to guard the sex goddess. And Harry would no doubt explode at the idiocy in that idea. Hermione would still not believe it. Despite Snape's reassurance, the story had holes. Stupid Draco just had to be worried about what people would think of her didn't she! No MALFOY (everyone bow down in awe!) would be cursed by a lowly Gryffindoor! Much less a Potter!  
  
He took a deep breath and let it back out without saying a word, staring at his hands gripped firmly on the table's edge. He could feel their eyes boring into his skull. What was he to say? Where do you begin to explain something like this?  
  
"Harry! You're not going to get away with just sitting there! We're missing valuable study time to be here! Not to mention Ron loves the opening feast, he was blabbering about it the whole way here! Who is this woman you're calling names and why would she be summoning you?"  
  
Hermione, ever the patient one, had a glaring Ron mumbling something about how when she talked it was "informing" but when he talked it was "blubbering". When Harry looked up into her rather annoyed eyes he opened his mouth and settled on the whole truth,  
  
"I haven't been practising my occlumency again. I know I should be, but Voldermort is nearly dead. We all know he's just hidden away in a coma somewhere. They're just waiting to find him and hand me a knife! So what's the point of taking extra lessons with Snape anyway?"  
  
Off track. There was no denying it. But that had been annoying him for some time. Everything was annoying him today. Hermione was frowning at him in that motherly way that just screamed 'so what your saying is, you did something naughty'. No reasoning or excuse would break that look. Ok, he had to move on to the next bit,  
  
"But, since Voldermort is still alive, even if he can't get into mine I can get into his head. I think Snape called him a filing cabinet. Information and what not."  
  
He raised a hand to his mouth and faked a cough as he said,  
  
"ahem... dark curses. . hmm,"  
  
Ron's face contorted into confusion and his eyes moved back and forth like he was trying to read what Harry had just said from his mind. Hermione's eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth,  
  
"Oh, Harry! What did you do? Who did you curse!"  
  
She hit him over the head with her hand causing him to flinch and his hair to scruff upwards before continuing,  
  
"You idiot! I TOLD you to do your lessons, but no! You think you're so much smarter then everyone! Well? Out with it, what did you do?!"  
  
Harry once again looked desolately at his hands. Let no one tell him he's not having to answer to a mother. That fierce scowl was just too much, he almost felt afraid she would ground him. And as Head Girl she probably could.  
  
"I cursed Malfoy. he called YOU a name you know, 'mione. I was defending you, you should be happy!"  
  
Ron's face regained all the colour it had lost, and his soundless mouthing of the words 'Voldermort's head' and 'dark curses' (which his friends had been ignoring) suddenly stopped. A large grin formed on his mouth and he clapped Harry on the shoulder as Hermione sent him a glare,  
  
"Good one, mate! What'd you do to him? God, I wish I'd seen it! That's real. well something, isn't it? Saviour of the light using the Dark Lord's head to curse his followers? Brilliant!"  
  
Hermione tutted and made a mental note to buy Ron a dictionary for Christmas. Maybe she could find him a conscience too? She looked up at Harry and was surprised to find him frowning at his hands still, rather then laughing and smiling with their redheaded friend.  
  
"What is it, Harry? What did you do to Malfoy? And what has this got to do with some woman summoning you?"  
  
She cut into Ron's laughs and saw the brunet before her pale further as he stammered out,  
  
"Malfoy is the woman summoning me. I cast some gender-changing curse on him. We're not sure if he can be changed back either,"  
  
Ron burst into hysterics as Hermione looked at him appalled. The two started their usual little fight, which ended with Ron pretending it wasn't funny, sitting straight in his seat as Hermione continued her questioning. There were so many things she had to know!  
  
"Harry, that doesn't explain why she is summoning you. And why haven't we heard of this? It's rather newspaper worthy!"  
  
Harry took another calming breath and looked back up at his friends. This was the last bit, he had to get it out. 'Just tell them that she is a Veela'. That would end all of Hermione's questions. She would understand, as long as he didn't mention that he'd.  
  
"I slept with her."  
  
NOOO! Harry's brain was screaming at him, that was not what he wanted to say! Ron sat seemingly chocking on his tongue as Hermione pulled a face. Harry tried to pretend it was envy, but it was quite obviously disgust.  
  
"I mean. Draco is a Veela, so now she's a Veela woman! And well, I'm her guard, and he was. hot. I mean, not good looking! Well, she is good looking, but itchy! She was itchy and heated! Last night. So, um, Yeah."  
  
The Potter boy finished lamely as he slumped in his chair. It was out. It was said, all that was left to add was,  
  
"They're pretending he's her own twin sister so 'Cory' Malfoy is staying here. No one is to know about it so don't tell."  
  
Looking back up from his hands slowly, Harry spotted a pale Ronald Weasley once again in shock. Hermione seemed oddly satisfied. She pushed her chair back to get up and spoke,  
  
"Well then. That's ok. She will need that, it's perfectly normal. You still shouldn't have cursed Malfoy but at least now, you're paying for the duration. I think I'll go talk to the Headmaster. I'll offer my help in researching a cure. Coming Ron?"  
  
Ron was frozen. Shocked. He was not good with Veela. And he really hated Draco. If he threw himself at the blond, he may just have to run away. Move to Australia and live with the kangaroos. No one would look for him there.  
  
The inner musings of the redhead were broken off when the door to their conference opened and a stunning blond walked in. She made his heart flutter. She sneered in the most adorable way at Hermione and decided not to spare him so much as a glance. She was divine!  
  
Harry looked up as Draco walked in and over to him. She pushed him back into the chair so he was sitting straight and perched herself onto his lap. A small contented noise leaving her throat as she looked around the room,  
  
"Professor Snape had to attend the first years. So. what where you doing? What did you tell you friends? Not that it really matters. I saw Blaise and he was entirely unaffected! You wouldn't believe it! Utterly gay that boy, but the idiot twins were drooling and blubbering along Bulstrode. It was so funny! Snape cursed them to the floor so they couldn't follow!"  
  
She giggled in delight on his lap and continued, completely certain that what ever she had to say was important to everyone present. Which it was. Hermione was bewildered, Ron was in love, and Harry wasn't sure if he should nuzzle her neck or throw her off. He chose the middle ground, sitting very still as she continued,  
  
"You'll have to learn that one! I'll ask him to teach you! Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends? Harry? What's wrong?"  
  
OH! He was stunned. She was being Cory was she? Well, there was no need for that. He was about to tell her when Hermione cut in acidly,  
  
"Draco there's really no need to introduce yourself. Although I must say I had no idea you wanted to know a filthy mudblood or a poor weasel. Perhaps estrogens are good for your attitude?"  
  
Like a flash, she was off of Harry's lap and facing him. A slight growl in her voice,  
  
"You told them! Who said you could do that!?! You IDOIT!"  
  
Harry shot up in front of her, anger coursing though his veins,  
  
"Of course, I told them! They're my best friends. They won't tell anyone, your precious dignity won't be ruined!"  
  
The blond lifted her hand and slapped him rather hard across the face. (While a redhead on the ground imagined all the places he would love for that godly hand to slap him! Kick him, anything as long as they touched!)  
  
"MY dignity? Have you completely lost your mind? Do you have any idea how good this would be for my reputation? The poor little orphan cursed by the boy who lived? YOU USED AN ILLEGAL CURSE, SCARHEAD! If they find out I'll be painted the poor victim while they drag your sorry arse to the darkest cell in Azkaban! Everybody is afraid that you'll be the next Dark Lord and you know it!"  
  
Harry paled and Hermione's eyes widened in understanding. She started making little noises and hand gestures that looked remarkably like she was trying to write on her mind. Ron tried desperately to figure out what was going on. Should he tackle Harry for upsetting his lovely? Or should he sing a sonnet?  
  
Harry whispered barely audible,  
  
"You're doing this to protect me?"  
  
Draco pulled a disgusted face, he most certainly was not! He didn't even like the little wretch! That monstrosity was the reason his parents were locked away, the reason he was a girl! She was only doing this because her godfather asked nicely. Because Dumbledore ordered him to ask her nicely. She made an irritated noise crossed her arms looking up at the ceiling.  
  
She did not like Potter! She was using him! She was going to chew him up and spit him out damn it! The self-righteous git just had to make it all about him. Paint her as a saint. She sneered back at him in contempt,  
  
"I told you before, Scarhead, your convenient. I do not Like you!"  
  
The hate she placed in the word like was akin to a Snape contempt. And they all stood frozen and still.  
  
Draco couldn't leave without Potter, but she'd be damned if she asked him to go with her! He'd just mix it around and think he was wanted or some such nonsense. In the heat of her thoughts, Draco forgot that ordering him out was even an option. 


	7. Chapter Seven

In a room locked away from the rest of the school, later that night, was a thoroughly confused Harry Potter. He sat at his desk trying desperately to look like he was reading. Trying desperately to convince himself he was reading. Anything to stop thinking.  
  
He had obviously done something wrong because Draco was locked in the bathroom showering. That was not in itself an anomaly, but she had been in there for 5 hours straight. No matter how vain the blond may be, that was much too long. There just weren't that many things to clean, even with her hundreds of bottles of scented this and that's.  
  
Looking back on what he'd said, Harry could honestly say that was the nicest he'd ever been to her. In years of squabbling and feuds, that was the closest he had ever come to suggesting that anything the Veela had ever done was anything other then selfish. And look what it got him!  
  
Where was the gratitude? The snide comment about idiocy? "Yes Potter, all for you. The world does revolve around you after all. How very Griffyndoor to not even consider the rules and laws you may have broken. I'm surprised your pet mudblood didn't tell you. That is why you keep her, isn't it? To compensate for you lack of brains?". She looked, instead, appalled. How very odd.  
  
Perhaps, he thought, it was a girl thing. Crazy hormonal ups and downs were sure to bring more than just an overly healthy sexual appetite. Girls where known, after all, for their extreme mood swings. Some chemical reaction was clearly happening in her head that confused his words. Maybe even his actions. This was most definitely a 'girl' problem. Best left alone.  
  
Draco, meanwhile, was staring blankly at the wall of the shower cubicle in a fit of panic. The water was still on, but she barely noticed. Crouched on the floor of the shower tying to figure out how to smoke while still under the waterfall.  
  
Turning the shower off took more energy then she could muster. Where this mysterious cigarette would come from, no one knew. The important thing was to work out how to smoke it without moving. Then work out how to get it without moving.  
  
Distractions. Her mind was clinging to them. Trying to focus on a lost cause because somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that something was wrong. Why hadn't she questioned keeping this whole situation a secret? Every word she had spoken to Potter was true.  
  
The poor Malfoy orphan who was cursed by the new Dark Lord. The wizarding world loved a Malfoy like the muggles loved their royals. Some would grovel at your feet, some would complain about your power and money. All of them loved a good fuck up. Do anything wrong and it's printed as far as the eye can see. But in the end they loved Draco Malfoy. They loved to hate her. If she painted herself as Potter's victim, she may even be able to talk her parents out of prison. Convince the world that her family was right. Three Dark Lords in a row, all Muggleborn or raised. Grindelwald, Riddle, Potter. She could have her face plastered over 'Witch Weekly' where it rightly belonged. Purebloods back in power. This was an opportunity to grab hold of with both hands. But she hadn't.  
  
And that was scary. The only possible explanation, of course, was that she was loosing her mind. A Slytherin always thinks of self-preservation first. Family preservation second, and allies third. Friends? Well, if they're not allies, who cares? You have to give something to get any in return. But Potter gave nothing but trouble. Her godfather's explanation was fine. For everyone else, their alliance meant the two families had joined. "Take advantage of the situation, Draco. And you will be the hero alongside him, without ever lifting a finger." All very well and good for Snape to say that, but she knew sharing the glory wasn't the only option here. She could rip it out from under him too.  
  
But she didn't want to.  
  
And so she sat in the shower, contemplating ways of keeping a non-existent cigarette out of the water without loosing the steady stream in her face.  
  
In the other room, Potter had had enough. This was ridicules! Girl problems? Hermione was a girl, and while incomprehensible at times, she never took a compliment badly. That was not an adequate excuse and all he'd read from the Veela book gave no indication that that caused this either.  
  
The Veela were cold creatures who very rarely loved and seldom monogamously. But most importantly, they were logical and straightforward. A Veela will tell you exactly what they think, which is quite often very little to do with anyone other then themselves. 'The Nature of a Veela' was the title of one chapter, Harry found himself crossing it out and replacing 'Veela' with 'Malfoy'. That was such a Lucius thing to say. "The Nature of a Malfoy is too be cold and distant, to care about oneself first and foremost", bla, bla, bla...  
  
If it wasn't hormones of either the girl or Veela variety, then Draco was really upset about something. And for some incomprehensible reason, that bothered him. He checked his watch to find it 8.50 pm. Last night's frenzied attack took place at 9 pm. He clearly cared because he wanted to get laid. That was all. That was it. Normal teenage boy stuff. No matter that this morning he felt rejected by her. That last night he wanted to cuddle. That was all behind him now.  
  
The door to the bathroom opened and a the Veela stepped out glaring at him. Leaning against the door frame in a defeated manner,  
  
"I hate you, Scarhead."  
  
A fact. Simple statement that they both knew was true, no matter what those inner voices said. Harry looked back at his lap ashamed of his last though. He didn't just want to get laid and even if he didn't voice that to the blond, he felt bad about it.  
  
"I hate you too."  
  
The Veela snorted at his pathetic attempt at mirroring the hate in her statement and walked over to sit on the table I front of him. She wasn't sure how to say this, afraid he would think she wanted him after his idiotic show of appreciation earlier. She instead murmured,  
  
"I'm hot."  
  
No attack took place this time, and things were considerable quieter. When they were done, she went back to her own bed and pulled the curtains shut to feign sleep as she stared at the canopy.  
  
Across the room, a similar situation was presented as a brunet lay on his bed frowning. Why was it so important to him that he make her happy again? Why was it so hard to make her happy? Why was she unhappy to start with?  
  
It was definitely a girl thing and he definitely just wanted to get laid. He was almost certain. 


	8. Chapter Eight

A sleepy eyed Griffindoor awoke form his sleep to the frantic cleaning of a woman obsessed. He would have bet every cent he owned that no Malfoy knew the meaning of the word 'cleaning'. They were very clean. Do doubts there. But the idea that they were the cause of this perpetual cleanliness never crossed his mind. Cleaning was a house elves job if ever there was one.   
  
With a mixture of perplexity and fear he had to ask her what she was doing. He had the vague impression that this was another weird girl thing he should know about.   
  
She turned startled by his sudden wakefulness for but a moment and then resumed her incessant tidying.   
  
"What does it look like Scarhead? I'm cleaning up your horrible mess! Instead of complaining you should get off your fat arse and help!"   
  
The now utterly confused brunet watched as the Veela continued to realign all of her belongings. Harry was at a loss as to how this was his mess. How this constituted a mess at all was a wonder. He slowly lifted himself into a sitting position and watched with fascination.   
  
Draco had come to a decision. That decision was that she didn't know what to do. Everything was wrong. Messy. Horribly aligned. She had no idea how to fix her emotional equilibrium, but she would start with her furniture. Every book on the shelf needed to be restacked so they went from largest to smallest. But then they looked too comical. It almost made her shelves look uneven. She removed them again and split the shelves into groups to try another pattern. Then another.   
  
It was simple really. Step one: Align room. Step Two: Align life. Surely once everything was neat and in its place she would be able to think again. Yes. That was what was needed. But her goddamned books refused to look non- comical and neat at the same time! Ripping the smallest and most obviously out of place book from the shelf she threw it across the room with a frustrated scream. The shelf suddenly looked much better. Weather this was because that abnormally small book was gone or because she had vented she wasn't sure. But it certainly helped.   
  
Across the room Harry watched in slight confusion. What was this madness? He lifted the book from his bed were it landed not a foot from his side and inspected it. 'Simple Arithmetic Equations' was the title. Why would she throw it across the room? He thought perhaps she was having trouble with her homework, but then realised classes had not started. Upon closer inspection he found the book to be in perfect condition.   
  
"Draco? What's wrong with you equation book?"   
  
It was a half mumbled question. Still gripped with the after affects of sleep as he inspected the book to see if it held the answers to the blonds insanity. Girls were so strange sometimes. The blond whirled around and stormed over to snatch the book back from his hands. Sending him a hate filled glare she hissed out,   
  
"What do you think your doing? Don't touch my things!"   
  
She then proceeded to storm back off to the book shelf. Harry considered arguing that she had thrown it at him so he was at to blame. But his limited experiences with girls so far had thought him that such an action would most likely backfire. Best to apologise and exit the room as soon as possible. Muttering a quite 'sorry' he fumbled to the bathroom and started his shower. He sincerely hoped he would not spend the year treading on eggshells because of her temper. She had such a strange and polar personality.   
  
Draco spent a good 5 minutes searching for a place for the little book that would not disrupt her symmetrical composition. And settled finally on a draw. She couldn't help but wonder who decided to make that book so stupidly small. No doubt some completely inconsiderate moron. A fool without a bookshelf. Possibly some sick and perverted publisher purposefully setting out to destroy order. The enemy of all that is symmetrical and good.   
  
Once she had the room perfect, her bed creaseless and her skirt smoothed so that every pleat was the exact same (2.5') width, she stood in the centre of the room waiting. This was clearly a horrible plan. Step two would need to be revised. Possibly removed. It involved a level of self assessment she feared.   
  
The master problem as she saw it was Harry Potter. The bane of her existence. All possible reasons for keeping Boy Wonders secret were indigestible. She was simply not a nice person. She did not care about him, and she was not being charitable. But that left very few options as to why she would do it. Snape had asked her, but from his initial reaction to her gender change, Snape clearly wanted the boy locked up. So that was not a passable excuse. And despite the many reasons to walk outside and announce who she was to the world. . . she didn't want to.   
  
Which meant she wanted to protect him.   
  
It was clear what she would have to do. Find another man. Cut this sick dependence on Potter before she got. . . attached. A shudder ran through her body. What a simply horrid thought.   
  
Walking out of the bathroom in his school robes Harry was relieved to find the cleaning whirlwind was over. And while all the comforting mess had been destroyed by the storm, he was sure he could easily re-mess it some time later. He escorted his blond charge down the corridors to their first class.   
  
By the end of the day Harry had noticed a pattern. Malfoy was most definitely flirting. Flirting with everyone! A serge of red hot anger swam through his veins with every swat of her eyelashes, every over emphasised swing of her hips and every soft and uncalled for giggle. Every boys eyes were glued to her chest. Every male mouth was watering. Professor Flitwick stuttered through charms like a first year. He had abandoned his platform of books to instead stand on the floor. Harry was certain it was because this placed the little professor at just the right hight for looking under the desks. Specifically for looking at the milky white legs of one Miss Cory Malfoy.   
  
Draco was acting strange. She was treating him like a servant. A body guard. She told him to follow her while she wondered off to an out of the way corridor with Terry Boot. For the first time in his life Harry found himself praying that Malfoy planned on killing a fellow student. Torture, pain and even death. All were better then allowing that snivelling runt to touch her.   
  
When they reached a corner Harry was instructed to stay around the bend and keep an eye out while she wondered away with an overly excited Mr. Boot. This was it. She would prove to herself and to Potter that he was nothing special. Potter was just one of the many. That was all. Looking into Terry's face she had to fight off the urge to gag. What a horrible specimen of the male population! His lage nose and thin lips only overshadowed by his beady little eyes and mouse brown freckles which completely covered his rounded little head.   
  
The fact was close inspection all day proved the male population of Hogwarts was severely lacking in the looks department. Blaise was gorgeous. . . and busy staring at Harry's arse. Harry was the second best looking, but that would defeat her purpose. Ron had drooled all day, but his red hair was just too much. Not to mention when she did consider him an option for all of 5 second the Mudblood had latched on like a leach and actually hissed in her direction. The carrot patch was called for and the farmer wasn't about to share. Terry was the lesser of many evils. The least ugly of a pack of extremely ugly boys. He was, at least, without Justin's enormous forehead, Crabbe or Goyles considerable girth, Seamus' indecipherable speech and Deans war on the horrible pimple monster. The list went on.   
  
Brought back to the present by slobbering kiss to her neck she shuddered and steeled herself for the inevitable. This was necessary. This was needed. And closing her eyes to pretend it was Potter did not prove anything. Really! It didn't.   
  
Harry, meanwhile, was pacing like a caged tiger. He could not understand why she was doing this. Surely he was better looking then Boot! Ginny thought he was prince charming and even Collin would leap to agree. Cho must have thought he was at least all right looking. He knew he wasn't ugly!   
  
A noise from Boot and Harry couldn't take it any more. He turned and raced around the corner to see Draco leaning totally unresponsive with her back to the wall. Her eyes closed with a look of disinterest and slight disgust while Terry sucked on her neck. Suddenly he was ripped backwards by a furious body guard and pushed down the other hall. Harry shoved him around the corner and hissed at him in parcel tongue. It was enough to make the boy scramble to safety. Namely, anywhere not Potter filled.   
  
Harry moved back to the surprised blond girl who had made no move to retrieve Terry. Before she gained her composure and screeched at him Harry decided to act.   
  
Pushing up against her he gave a searing kiss. It was the first long kiss they had shared and Draco found herself blown away by the intensity of it. Harry for the first time dominated her and she was enjoying it far too much.   
  
Braking the kiss and falling to his knees Harry looked up into silver eyes and whispered up to her, "Do you prefer Terry or me?"   
  
Draco gave a squeal of surprise and delight as the brown locks were lost under her perfect pleats and braced herself against the wall. Harry was defiantly better then Terry. In fact, Harry was defiantly better then anything she could think of ever doing with anyone.  
  
Afterwards Harry lifted himself back up and used a handkerchief to wipe her neck. There weren't any visible marks left my Terry but he wanted to clean of all traces of him. Once he was done Harry snuggled his nose into her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist whispering into her ear,   
  
"From now on we're going to snuggle after sex. I like holding you."   
  
Unable to compose an argument Draco lowered her arms around him and nodded her head slightly. It wouldn't hurt to just pretend to like him for a little while. 


	9. Chapter Nine Co Written with Media Aries

At dinner Harry was languidly munching on a chocolate from the desert bowl. The delicious chocolate wisps melting on his tongue and the soft caramel filling making strings from his lips and down his chin when he pulled it away. His tongue searching the golden strings out with a child like grin. It was terribly fun.  
  
Dracos eyes where riveted to the brown treat. The very bad, very forbidden treat. Filled with soft fatty badness. . . chocolates where clearly made by Satan himself. A sick ploy to destroy her thighs. Actually, most of the food in this place was of that variety, which was why she tended to eat as little as possible. Which was normally fine, but that chocolate looked especially nice.  
  
Fatty. Badness. Get a grip woman!  
  
She turned her head back to the table, eyes firmly riveted on the glass of water. Water was really just as nice as chocolate if one thought about it. The cool liquid actually managed to taste like fresh air. No other food could manage that. Water was. . . it was. . . it didn't really matter what water was. It was the only option available. Never mind that the half eaten treat with it's alluring insides was being brought closer to her lips. She shut her them firmly and shook her head in the negative. Clearly Harry had gone mad, forgotten those lovely thin legs and tiny little tummy. Chocolate just did not help such necessary things.  
  
"Coooooorrrrryyyyyyyy. . . do you want a bite of the chocolate?" Harrys words were filled with a sing song mirth, the last word voiced with a lust filled groan. She would resist! Shaking her head again she lifted the water to her lips. Nice, cool, healthy, bland water. Water was safe.  
  
Chuckling slightly as her visible distress, the raven haired boy popped the treat into his mouth and swallows with a dramatic gulp. A lone string of caramel still resting on his bottom lip.  
  
"To late now!" he exclaimed. Smiling at her. . . drawing her eyes to that golden string of sugary goodness. It was barely a milligram. Just this once. . .  
  
A lone manicured hand flew from the blonds side to clamp around the startled boys head as she brought him in for a searing kiss. Just the hint of caramel picked up by a pink tongue on it's way in.  
  
The rest of the table was quite a show too.  
  
Ron was drooling visibly. His goddess was so exquisite, her movements just as erotic with Harry as they would be should they be aimed towards himself. His blue eyes where riveted to the battling tongues. Hermoine slapped him in the head when he wiggled his head slightly, pretending he could feel those velvety lips. He imagined they would feel like rose petals. A small moan left his throat. The divine being had told him to never touch her again, after an incident in potions where he had accidentally spilled willow leaves down her shirt and had graciously tried to recover them form the warm depths. He would prove his worth by with holding back until she was suitably impressed and allowed him further access.  
  
Next to the red head sat Seamus Finnegan. In love. He delved his hand into the nearest bowl of desert, rubbing anything he could grab all over his face. . . clearly she liked licking it off. It would no doubt impress her that he had taken the incentive to prepare for the tongue bathing. He was totally unaware of the ice cream now smeared in his hair, the chocolate bowl being centimetres away from his misplaced hand as he watched with growing appreciation for his darling one. On second thought, there where other places she might like to lick too. . . he quickly plunged a handful of the cold substance down his pants and screamed bloody murder when the shock of sudden frost bite took hold. That was not chocolate!  
  
On the other side of Draco, Dean Thomas sat diligently drawing the view he had of the princess. The leg next to him was edging upwards to nudge at boy wonder, her short shirt revealing the top of thigh high stockings. His sketch was solely of that lovely leg, he was building a collection of them for her. All these other silly boys where trying to woo his princess with trinkets and adoring eyes. He would present her with a book of his sketches and she would no doubt be impressed with his talent. . . only every time he went to place then in a draw for collection something seemed to happen to his mind and he would suddenly throw the picture away. Right then Dean couldn't remember why, it always seemed important not to draw another one, until the princess showed herself again and then the plan made sense. He must remember why the drawing was important. He must focus!  
  
Finally, across from the kissing pair sat a bushy haired girl, glowering and glaring for all her worth. She let out a polite caught to get their attention and when that failed threw her hands up in frustration and decided to leave.  
  
Every male eye in the hall, bar the headmaster, Professor Snape, and one very flaming Blaise Zabini still fixed on the snogging pair.  
  
The next day Hermoine decided it was time to visit her best friend. Harry clearly needed their support. It had to be terrible being locked up with Malfoy. Unaffected by the charms, Harry would see through her (no doubt magically induced) eating disorder looks. Who wanted an anorexic anyway? If anyone had asked Hermoine she would have told them the blond was by far too thin, and therefore greatly unattractive.  
  
Making her way to the private rooms to comfort her friend, a complaining Ron in tow, the Much-Smarter-Then-That-Veela girl started to fume. Surely Harry needed them. But her red headed friend didn't seem to agree. "Moine! I don't want to go! You've seen how I act! It's soooo embarrassing!" his whining voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor. Hermoine huffed and turned to explain in a very slow voice to her friend, yet again that "Harry needs us! You can't abandon him to that Succubus! If you where locked away with Malfoy wouldn't you want your friends to stand by you?"  
  
The Weasley seemed to grow paler at the mere idea. God only knew what he'd do if he where left alone with her! Things where embarrassing enough as they where. He ascended and followed her fast pace.  
  
Once at the door the girl gave a loud rap and stood back, stealing herself in case the blood answered. She was shocked, to say the least, when a messier then usual-haired boy opened the door, eyes still fixed inside the room, and shirt front open to the world. Draco could be heard within, singing in a very strange way.  
  
"I'm too sexy for my shirt! To sexy for my shirt! So sexy it hurts!"  
  
Suddenly what looked like a white blouse flew into Harrys chest, the green eyes boy turning to his guests only for a few second and rushing out his words, "Hey guys! Is there something you needed?" Throwing the shirt quickly behind the still half closed door fast and pretending it hadn't flown at him.  
  
Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the continued singing within, Hermoine attempted to make eye contact with Harry to explain she was there to help him through this trying time. "Harry. We came to visit you. . ." She was interrupted though from within and had to pause as the boy turned back to look within for the next chorus,  
  
"I'm too sexy for my skirt! Too sexy for my Skirt! So sexy it hurts!"  
  
The pleated garment went flying into Harrys face and he pulled it off with a nervous giggle and hid it behind his back, tuning to speak to Hermoine. "What was that?"  
  
But before he'd even finished his question he was sneaking glances back inside. Hermoine nudged Ron in the side with her elbow and the red head stepped forward (careful to make sure he could not see inside) and tried to get his best friends attention. "Harry, we know this must be difficult for you. So we've come to visit and support you."  
  
But Harry was only half paying attention. He bit his bottom lip to stifle a moan at the Veelas acrobatics and spoke to Ron without looking at the red head at all. "What's difficult?"  
  
The next verse began before Ron could continue,  
  
"I'm to sexy for my bra! Too sexy for my bra! To sexy by far!"  
  
The offending garment suddenly flung itself to hang from Harrys ear, and just as Hermoine opened her mouth to try once again to reason with her friend, he suddenly burst out "Guys, I love you. Your great! But I've really gotta go! I'll see you later!"  
  
And with that he closed the door in their stunned faces. A startled and girly giggle making it's way through the wood before a very excited Veela moaned out quite loudly "OH YES! HARRY! RIGHT THERE!"  
  
The two Gryffindors turned tail and admitted defeat. The blushing prefect admitting to herself that perhaps this wasn't as hard for Harry as she had thought. Though she would never say that out loud. 


	10. Chapter Ten Co Written with Media Aries

Harrys newly found domination turned out to be quite the turn on. The Veela refused to sleep in his bed though. She could snuggle after sex. She did that nigh, but after a the boy was fast asleep she moved into her own four poster. She just couldn't sleep with someone else that close. She didn't trust him enough for that.  
  
Three days passed in relative calm. They'd built up a pattern of sorts. Quite respect for one another followed by nightly bouts of glorious sex. She could deal with the snuggling afterwards. What she couldn't do was put up with nonsense. She was still a Malfoy after all.  
  
Standing in potions, partnered with Harry for her own protection, after three days of getting along, Draco noticed Harry was starting to behave. . . oddly. Right then, for example, he was grinding up the Varium Root needed for their potion. Only he wasn't doing it right.  
  
The thick lavender paste he produced did not go with her complexion at all. She knew this because every few minutes his index finger would 'accidentally' dip into the substance and, 'forgetting' it was there, Harry would 'accidentally' wipe it onto her thigh just under the hem of her skirt. Harry seemed to not notice what he was doing, engrossed in the preparation as he was. But with each lavender stripe to make parallel lines along her leg Draco was growing more frustrated. What did he think he was doing?  
  
A cold swipe tingled on her leg and looking down she caught the fourth stripe being placed but was to slow to swat the offending hand away. Harrys eyes did not leave his task but a small smile was trying to escape his lips. Noticing his apparent amusement the Veela leaned forward to whisper harshly at him, "Would you stop it!", while trying to wipe the staining substance off with a rag. It was no good. Snape had specifically mentioned earlier that the paste would stain the skin for 24 hours; there was no antidote. She'd have four lavender stripes on her thigh until this time tomorrow. Just great! The dull purple made her pail legs look grey as ash, and they meant she would have to wear a longer skirt. She didn't have a longer skirt!  
  
Looking up furiously she noticed Harry was looking back with wide eyed innocence. A slight smile still tugging at his lips. "Stop what?" he asked. Infuriated, Draco stood up from her seat and threw the rag down on the table with growl of frustration. He was finding this funny!  
  
"I'm serious, Harry. Stop it!" Her voice was short and harsh as she moved away from him to start preparing another component. Concentrating on job at hand she was startled by a cold sensation on the back of her neck. She gasped out in shock and tried to pull away but Harrys hand moved with her as she arched forward. An opened palm full of lavender paste placed consolingly on her neck.  
  
"I'm sorry, Cory." He whispered in mock sympathy to her wide eyed surprise. "I didn't realise." Pulling a now lavender hand back to his side as he checked the temperature of the cauldron, Harry was trying desperately not to laugh.  
  
Draco was sputtering beside him. The back of her neck displaying a lavender hand print, as attested to by the slight snickering from the table behind them. Without warning she plunged her fingers into the bowl of paste and smeared it vertically across the boys face. A dragged hand print from the top of his forehead, past his nose and swiped off at his chin. Satisfied she lifted the rag to wipe the excess from her fingers with all the pomp of a master finishing a wondrous artwork.  
  
Harry stood in open mouthed shock. A large and misshaped chunk of the paste falling form his nose to the dungeon floor. Snickering rose silently form one end of the room while gasps sounded at the other. Snape was safely searching in the store cupboard out of sight.  
  
Placing the rag buck down, Draco turned to see Harry and suddenly burst out in a fit of giggles. Covering her mouth with a hand and using the other to point a finger at him as she doubled over slightly. He looked like a member of the Gay and Lesbian Marti Gras. Possibly some muggle fairy or lavender shaded elf.  
  
Brought from his shock Harry couldn't help but smile at finally having made the Veela smile, let alone burst into an adorable fit of girly giggles. He wiped the excess paste form his face and reached out to return the favour. But draco saw the horrible coloured hand coming and turned to run away. . .only to feel a cold sludgy hand enclose around the back of her right thigh. Squealing she turned fast to the bowl and scooped out a portion to dumb on the now loudly laughing boys head. He kept laughing and pulled her into a hug as her hand slowly worked the sludge into his hair. Massaging it in like a thick shampoo she laughed with him.  
  
The whole class was shocked into silence and a large clattering noise saw the fast emergence of Professor Snape form the cupboard. Laughter in his classroom never lead to anything good. The sight to greet him confirmed that fact. The Potter boys head was entirely lavender, hair and all. Smaller streaks covered Dracos legs and arms as the two proceeded to actually make out in his classroom!  
  
"WHAT THE DEVIL DO YOU TWO THING YOUR DOING!?!"  
  
At the bellowed voice of the Slytherin head of house the two lovers pulled away and looked guiltily down to the ground. Draco had a very unattractive lavender smear around her mouth. She looked like a five year old caught attempting to drink an uncooked icing mix. One small dot on the end of her nose. "Detention!" Snape continued, "Tonight, for the both of you! You'll be cleaning up this mess! AND 5 points from Gryffindor for instigation and 2 from Slytherin for retaliation.. . .Now, all of you get back to work!"  
  
Neville gave a squeak of fear despite the fact that he was not the subject of the terrible wrath. Just witnessing it was enough. He was delicate after all.  
  
The next day at lunch Hermoine awaited the arrival of her friend in vein. Ron sat next to her trying to think of all possible excuses for Harry's absence. "Maybe he's off. . . you know? Taking car of Cory." Wiggling his eyebrows at her suggestively. Hermoine scowled in return. That was not an acceptable answer!  
  
"or," Ron went on, "Maybe he found the entrance to a secret chamber no one has been in for a thousand years, which was created my Rowena Ravenclaw, using his remarkable ability to speak the language of Ravens, and he'd currently battling to the death with a giant bird in order to stop it from flying out and eating all students with below average grades?" Hermoine scowled further, this wasn't funny.  
  
"or," Ron didn't seem to notice how annoyed his friend was getting, "He's accidentally fallen into a year long competition with representatives from around the world for the ultimate prize of being sole member of Corys bed. BUT, before he can win that honour he must battle a. . . giant squid, which you know, has all those arms so it's bound to be hard. THEN he has to learn how to fly, find the right cloud out of all the clouds in the sky to rescue a basket of kittens (because that's the sort of thing heroes do.) THEN he was to solve a difficult puzzle before his opponents only to find once he's won that Cory will drag him off to Malfoy Manor to let her father flay and serve him as an appetiser at a feast. But, of course, he'll defeat Lucius, turn Cory to the side of the light and return to school having freed all the house elves, caused a revolution and saved the world yet again?" A few students around them gave a laugh at that, but Hermoine was not happy. She grabbed his elbow just as he was starting in on another possibility. Seamus let out a disappointed sigh to which Ron bowed and promised to return.  
  
Once they were out of the Hall Ron had to extricate his arm from her grip before she accidentally ripped it off. "Hermoine? I'm sure he's fine. He's just with Draco. Calm down." Reaching a hand out he tried to pull her back but the murderous glare she sent him stopped that idea. He decided to just follow her, not because he had to. . . because he wanted to.  
  
"It's not alright!" she screeched, "It's a week into school and apart from the first afternoon Harry hasn't talked to us once! We're his best friends! Not that. . . that. . . I don't know what she is, but she's still Malfoy!" At that she stopped and whirled on the startled red head, pointing a finger at him menacingly with every word, daring him to disagree, "Just because she's putting out doesn't mean she's worth his time!" They started up a few flights of stairs as Hermoine started mumbling to herself in what Ron slightly scary way.  
  
Heroines mind was racing. Who did Draco think she was? Strutting around in those stupid skirts! Didn't anyone else see they were too short? There was no way they were regulation length. Any ones legs would look that good in such sort skirts, but some people had responsibilities. Some people wanted to set a good example for the younger girls. Some people realised that showing so much leg was demeaning to women everywhere! Hermoine was one of those people!  
  
Of course, she thought with growing bitterness, Draco wouldn't realise that, she was a boy inside after all! A sultry, stupid boy! Who did she think she was hoarding all of Harry's time like this? Harry was her best friend! All of a sudden some girl comes along with anorexia and Harry can't even talk to his friend? Draco was still Draco! Abnormally small legs and a comically small stomach didn't change that! Just because the Veela suddenly grew much to large breast, that were bound to tip the twit over, didn't mean she was a good person!  
  
This was still Draco Bloody Malfoy after all! Even Ron couldn't help himself from drooling! It was ridicules! If Hermoine saw an attractive boy he would become ugly as she got to know him should he be a complete arse like Malfoy was! What was wrong with all these boys? Couldn't they see past that hideously huge chest!?!  
  
And all of the teachers were clearly affected! There was no way Dracos marks where that good! Never mind that the Malfoy had always had the second highest marks! Hermoine was a dedicated student who loved her work! Surely Draco was too busy thinking of racial slurs to actually study! That stupid Veela just thought she was brilliant! Perfect grades to go with her perfect body! Everyone thought Cory was just PERFECT! But Hermoine knew better. Hermoine knew much better then all of these uneducated plebes!  
  
Rounding the corner to Harry and Draco's private rooms the bushy haired girl had to take a deep breath to calm herself. They were going to visit Harry and devise a study plan for turning that thing back into a boy so everything could go back to normal!  
  
Approaching the entrance Hermoine and Ron were surprised to see a laughing Draco emerge, looking back into the room and waving something around with a whoop of triumph. The Veela started towards them and stoped dead, still smiling when she noticed the Gryffindors open mouthed shock. Harry burst out the door after her, wrapping his arms around her still form and reaching out for the object, giggling in a very non-Harry way. This seemed to shock Draco into action and she burst free from his arms and started to run down the hall. The green eyed boy let out squeal of surprise at how easily she'd escaped his clutches and started after her. Before he disappeared Hermoine called out his name to draw his attention. Without stopping his pursuit the brunet turned his head and yelled back at them, "Hey guys! I'll see you later!" and then he was gone.  
  
Hermoine couldn't help but stomp her foot down and ask Ron in a banshee like scream "Just who the hell does she think she is!?!" before storming off in the other direction. The startled red head blinked back into his right mind. He hated it when Malfoy did that! No matter how much he tried to concentrate on his hate for the blond he always fell into mute adoration when in her presence. Coming back to his right mind he scurried off after Hermoine before he got himself into trouble. 


	11. Chapter Eleven Co Written with Media Ari...

Everything had gone pretty decently so far.  
  
It had been three weeks since the change and Draco was resigned to her fate. In fact, a little voice in the back of her head even insisted that she was kind of happy with it. She was sitting in the library with Harry (who was *trying*), ruthlessly distracting him by playing footsie under the table. She might as well enjoy her time as a woman, it's wasn't like she'd be one forever.  
  
Malfoys were known for taking advantage of all situations, and this wasn't really so bad. She could even consider it as a holiday from her real life; she was 'Cory' right now, she didn't need to think of all the reasons she shouldn't be doing this.  
  
There was nothing wrong with that.  
  
Everyone needed a break now and then. Who was she to refuse the opportunity when placed so conveniently in her lap on a silver platter and a side of Gryffindor cutie. For some unknown reason she had started to use the most obserd words, like cutie, in her head. She figured it was a hormone thing.  
  
She decided to stop thinking about it when Harrys foot nudged her ankle. She smiled sexily at him across the table and nudged him back, running her ankle and calf up Harry's leg, to settle snugly on his lap, smirking smugly at his scandalized face; the nonsense was OK once you got used to it.  
  
Suddenly, if not expectedly under the circumstances, the brunet boy slammed his book shut and slid it into his bag.  
  
"Come on, lets get out of here."  
  
The boy took Draco's hand and lead her out of the library at an alarmingly fast pace, their destination and intent clearly written in his dilated pupils and strategically placed book bag.  
  
They were about to cross the door on their way out of the room when Professor Snape's smirking figure entering at the at the exact same time they were leaving and, of course, wanting to talk to them. He lifted a folded piece of parchment and cleared his throat dramatically before turning his glee filled eyes to the Gryffindor as he announced, "Miss Cory Malfoy is the new Slytherin seeker."  
  
Draco let go of the frustrated and protesting Harry's hand in a rush to grab the parchment and confirm the news. This was wonderful! She loved quititch more then anything! Scrunching it slightly as she brought the parchment to her chest and hugged it, the blond let out a small squeal of triumph and gave a little jump and twirl of joy, her skirt riding indecently high with the movement and making all non- blood- related males present drool on their books and parchments, and one Madam Pince glare at her nastily. If the Veela insisted on going to the library all the books would have to be drool-proofed. She was about to propose a massive celebration in honour of her happy news. One look at Harry told her that was not the best idea. He looked furiouse.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
The brunets mind was working a hundred miles an hour. She couldn't play quidditch! No one would be able to concentrate on the game! All the other players would be trying to help her catch the snitch to impress her! It wasn't fair! But he'd be damned if he told her that, she'd not doubt slap him or, even worst, search someone else to accompany her for the night. (Or, he thought as a side note, eat him.) But he couldn't stay silent!! They would LOSE, dammit!! He turned to the professor to voice his objections a bit more hysterically than what he had intended.  
  
"She can't! Your cheating!"  
  
Snape seemed to smirk further at his little exclamation and put on an expression of mock thought, his black on black eyes gleaming with interior light. "hmmm" he began, "All students have the right to play on the team. . . I do believe there's a rule about that. And Cory is the only student who applied (it would seem no one wanted to run against her, I wonder why) so she won the position by default."  
  
Harry sputtered, his face growing red with frustration and his hands moving as if to accentuate the points he wasn't getting out of his mouth in his stuttering rage. "I. . . but. . . you. . . that's it! I'm going to see McGonagall about this!" Harry yelled out, his finger pointing accusingly at the professor, and then, seeing that the man seemed willing to bite it off, quickly shifting it to accuse the parchment. He was completely oblivious to the frowning blond beside him.  
  
"You don't want me to play quititch?!" she accused in a trill. Harry turned to her with astonishment and wracked his brain to find a watered down way to tell her he'll rather do the Macarena in a bikini for the Giant Squid. "No," he placated, "its not that! But you'll distract all the other players! It's not fair!"  
  
The blond held the parchment closer as if afraid he would try to rip it form her grasp, her lip pouting slightly even as her chin raised in defiance, the old Malfoy poise shining trough. "I can play quititch if I want to! They'll just have to put a charm on me!"  
  
Harry opened his mouth to argue the immorality of using dark magic for a quititch match, but the girl stomped her foot down imperiously, with a huff and all the pomp of a truly spoilt child and exclaimed in an almost whining voice, "I'm playing quititch and you can't stop me!" before pushing past the two males and storming off down the corridor.  
  
An evil chuckle left the professor's throat before a confused and angry Harry shot off after her. * * * * * * * * * * * * "I see your position, of course Severus, but you must surely see Harry has a point too." The headmaster tried to reason for the 10th time that afternoon. The head of Slytherin and Gryffindor had been screaming each other's heads about the morality of letting a Veela play quidditch for hours. Their screamed insults and fury driven logic (not quite so logical) was only overshadowed by the parallel screaming of Harry and Draco next to their counterparts, going on about the morality of dark magic, the rights of female students. Albus sighed and slumped slightly in his chair. The rules did state that Draco should be allowed to play, but he couldn't very well let that kind of blatant cheating go on. Not for the Slytherins, they more then any other house needed to be taught to play fair.  
  
"How about, Severus" the headmaster began, "you cast a charm on Miss Malfoy for the duration of the game, but only after we are on the pitch. There are only four games she will have to play in his year at the most. If you remove the charm immediately afterwards there should not be enough dark energy to interrupt with that of the wards. That way Miss Malfoy may play Quittitch without compromising the other players. Is that a suitable solution to everyone here?"  
  
The surrounding adults and miss Malfoy nodded their heads reluctantly, and after a nasty three way glare. Boy Wonder surrendered, looking none too pleased about it. It seemed the Gryffindors would prefer she where out of the game alltogheter just as much as the Slytherins would prefer she were able to keep her charms for the duration the match.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * Walking through the halls to their room Draco was nervously confused. Harry seemed to be still smoking at the ears. He was striding in long stiff movements which just screamed 'tense'. Surely the spell making her charms unusable would fix his problems. Unless he just didn't want her to. . .  
  
No. That was stupid. Harry wouldn't purposely try and stop her from doing something she loved as much as Quidditch unless he thought she was going to cheat. That was just his Gryffindor side showing. Not to mention he would, of course, be adverse to her cheating against him. It's not like Harry didn't want her to play Quidditch at all.  
  
Was it?  
  
She reached out a tentative hand to clamp on Harrys much larger hand and continued to walk. The boy looked down surprised when Draco had touched him, but smiled slightly at the nonchalant expression in her face as she pretended this was the most normal thing in the world. Not looking at him once, Draco continued through the halls, past a few curious students, and finally to their rooms where she moved over to sit on his bed.  
  
"What's wrong?" She asked, "I will be charmed you know. No cheating here. . . why aren't you happy?"  
  
At her words Harry gave a forced smile and started to loosed his tie. Turning away to place it in a draw, more so he wouldn't have to look at her then for neatness' sake. "I know" He replied, "nothings wrong. I'm just a little tired is all"  
  
Draco eyed his back dubiously. The muscles where still tightly held and he refused to look up. His words where betrayed by the fake neutrality of his tone, he was obviously bothered by something. After nearly a month of being together in quiet happiness the Veela was surprised to realise just how much his current mood bothered her. She could admit to not hating him anymore, even liking him a little. She could even say there where things about him that she loved. . . not to get her wrong! She was certain she didn't love *him*, that was just absurd! He was still Saint Potter. But when he woke her up those mornings she slept in by pressing his face really close and sniffing her cheeks and neck like an enthusiastic dog. . .  
  
Or when he climbed into the shower with her unexpectedly and insisted on washing every inch of her skin with a child like concentration. . .  
  
When he insisted in including her in his activities for the day, trying desperately to incorporate her in the few conversations he had with his Gryffindor friends. The little games he played with her in class and the smiles he shot her from across the room when they where separated. . .  
  
Or even when he insisted they snuggle after sex, holding his arms around her tight, as if he feared she would get up and leave given the opportunity. His soft sent seemingly radiating from his chest where her nose would lightly press. The way he had slowly won her over so that she could no longer leave once he'd drifted to sleep. . .  
  
The gleeful look on his face the first morning he'd woken to find her still in his bed. . .  
  
There where definitely things that she loved about him, even if she could only say she strongly like the rest of him at this point. But the way he was acting now, his head down to the ground when he turned so he didn't have to look in her eyes, his rivited attention on the unclasping of his buttons and his sock removal. It all told her that he was mad still and that sat uneasily. She had to know what was wrong with him.  
  
There was only one time in Harrys life when he was completely off guard and tended to say the truth, as if he couldn't extend the energy needed to think of a lie and perform it properly. The before-during-and-afterglow was a bitch like that.  
  
Once Harry was lying securely on the bed he threw his arm over his eyes in what he hoped was a tired manner and attempted to drift off to sleep. 'Playing' in their rooms that day during lunch meant he could be off duty for the night. But Draco seemed to have other ideas because no sooner had he made himself comfortable then a light weight started to make it's way up his side.  
  
First his leg sank into the mattress when what felt like an arm on either side was pushing down into the bed. His leg then rose slightly and the light tickling of 'walking' fingers could be felt making their way up his stomach to his chest. Little shots of electricity seemed to extend down those fingers to his spine. When the little leg imitations made their way to his nipple they stopped just short of touching. His leg sank back down as the soft weight of a bend knee was replaced on the bed where the hand had left. Harry decided that pretending to be asleep was definitely the best option in his current mood, so he stayed absolutely still.  
  
Draco shifted slightly so her weight was propped up on an elbow and hip beside the boy, one knee in between his legs and two fingers still resting just under the traitorously hardening nub. Very slowly she raised one of the fingers to lightly brush over the hard surface through his school shirt before lightly circling it and humming an absent tune in her throat.  
  
"Harry?" She whispered in what she hoped was a seductive manner. The boy grunted in question back at her but, not to be perturbed easily, she continued. "Tell me whats wrong?" She timed a light pinch of the now tingling nub with her last words and was rewarded with a slight parting in the boys lips. Slowly he lifted his arm from his eyes and looked up into innocently shiningly silver pools. Her pink lips where slightly pouted with a doe eyed expression that Harry couldn't bring himself to ignor or insult. He smiled a small forced quirk of the lips and replied, "I'm fine. Everything's great, your going to play Quidditch and we're going to have fun on the field together. . . with everyone looking. It'll be great."  
  
Dracos mind swam with suspicion at he words, but she trained her face to remain impassive. 'with everyone looking'? Was he ashamed of her? No, that couldn't be it, they'd been seen together by the whole school by now. There was no one left to be shy towards. Her mind racing, Draco slowly lifted her hand up to undo the top three buttons of her shirt and trace and hand along the soft mound of her breast. Green eyes followed her every move with growing interest.  
  
"hmmm" Draco sighed and shifted her hand back to the boys chest, only a little lower this time. The sudden movement had pushed the two sides of the button up shirt wider apart and when she leaned in towards him to concentrate on drawing circles on his stomach Harry was given a view right down her top. The angle of her almost upside down position causing her breasts to fall forward and almost out of the too small bra, exposing the tiny beauty spot on her right cleavage.  
  
Harrys lips where suddenly dry and he licked them while forcing his eyes to move to her hand. Draco appeared to be paying little to no attention to what she was doing. The useual Malfoy smirk when she managed to get Harry all hot and bothered was absent. Harry almost thought she didn't realise the effect this was having until she sighed and shifted again, her knee moving slightly to graze his tightening pants. Two thoughts simultaneously hitting his head.  
  
She was up to something. . . . . . and who really cared as long as this continued?  
  
"Harry?" She asked again in an innocent voice that failed to bring the boy completely from his tingling, "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"Nothings wrong. Everything's great." He whispered out with a sight as she lightly untucked the bottom of the boys shirt and started to draw circles in the slight hair leading down from his navel. The Gryffindor always seemed to like that.  
  
After a few moments of teasing she shifted her perfectly manicured fingers to undo the button on his pants and slide down the zip.  
  
"Why don't you want me to play Quidditch then?" Draco asked in a calm and non threatening way before lowering her palm. Harry twitched at the touch and he managed to gasp out "Uniforms!" amongst his growing haze. This only served to confuse the blond further, slightly running her finger up the length she asked another question, "What's wrong with the uniforms?"  
  
"Revealing. . . everyone watching. . . you can see up the robes. . . ahhh. . . when people fly over. . . you don't own any pants!" Harrys words where more gasping breaths then coherent speech but Draco picked them up anyway. Scowling slightly down at the boy for the ridiculousness of not wanting her to play in case boys looked her way.  
  
She none the less slipped her hand under the elastic of his boxers as his hands clenched in the sheets beneath him. She could forgive him jealousy. . . as long as that was all that it was.  
  
"Is that the only reason?" She questioned as her cold fingers finally made contact and Harry groaned out in frustration of not being able to do anything. The Veela had made it abundantly clear on numerous occasions that being as still as possible was the only way to make her finish. Malfoys, apparently, did not quicken their pace for anyone. She'd either go at her own leisurely timing or stop all together.  
  
"Is that the only reason you don't want me to play?" She repeated when Harry had failed to answer. "No. . ."  
  
Continuing she looked up at his closed eyes and heavily breathing mouth. "Why else?" She whispered and stopped. The boy seemed to pick up the message and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind in order to make the hand start up again. "I want to win! Please don't stop!"  
  
Smiling slightly at him she started again and leaned in closer to hiss out with fake venom, "Scared Potter? Think I'm too good for you?" Draco was most pleased with this revelation. Sure, he was being selfish, but a Slytherin could sympathise with that. The point was Harry was jealous and worried about her talent. Two very fine compliments if she did think so herself.  
  
But then the boy answered her in his mounting pleasure, "No. . . You'd never beat me. . . you're a horrible seeker." And then groaned.  
  
Draco glared down at his hazy form. "What?" She barked out harshly. But Harry didn't hear the anger in her tone. "You'd never win anyway, but you'll flirt all over the place and distract Ron or something, so he wont be able to block and even when I catch the snitch you'll win." With those mumbled words he snuggled into the bed and closed his eyes reaching one hand out to bring the girl in closer for his favourite time of the day. Post Orgasmic Snuggling.  
  
To his surprise she pulled away violently.  
  
He thought she was a terrible seeker! He thought she'd make Slytherin win the game, not as a good player but as a distraction to the other players!?! What did he think she was? Sure she was beautiful, a distraction if ever there was one, but that hadn't changed since she'd been a boy! Boy Draco was a distraction too. . . but she was still a DAMN FINE SEEKER! Fucking Potter was the only player who'd ever beaten him! And maybe Potter would be the only player who would beat *her* too, but that didn't mean she was a bad seeker!  
  
Scowling in rage she pulled back from his bed and whipped her hand on his four poster curtains. Accusing silver eyes boring down at the half sitting boy who looked utterly confused.  
  
"You think I'm a horrible seeker?" She ground out, pain etched over her face mixed with anger. Harrys mind started to clear and he knew he'd done something terribly wrong. Scooting over to the edge in a half daze to fix the problem he blurted out, "No! That's not what I meant, I just meant I'm much better!"  
  
Snorting in disbelief she turned to go back to her own bed when Harry reached out a hand to stop her. "No, wait!" He begged, "It doesn't matter, ok? Nothings really changed, we'll win anyway so I don't know what I'm all tiffy about. I'm sorry."  
  
Shit.  
  
Harry's mind sprang into action and started to belt him for stupidity. He knew he shouldn't talk so soon after orgasm. Even now, just a few minutes afterwards his mind was starting to point out the many flaws in what he'd said. Draco spun around wrenched her arm free to point at the door.  
  
"OUT! NOW! I don't want you in here tonight!" she yelled at him, going over to throw some of his clothes into his school bag. As she swept by him to his closet Harry found himself gaping and stumbling for the right words. "But. . . I didn't mean anything! Your good on the field, I wouldn't have been so peeved if I didn't think you where a threat!"  
  
Draco ignored his pleas and clamped the bag shut with Harrys Quidditch uniform and pyjamas inside. She turned and threw it at the boys chest and sneered out in a very Snape-like way, "Oh, yes. Of course! What a wonderful strategy for my team! Put Miss Useless out there and have her flash everyone. God only knows how terrible she is at Quidditch, but she's got a nice arse so we'll just wave it in Weasleys face and hope he drools himself off the broom!"  
  
Draco stormed over to the door and wrenched it open before turning back to finish, "There's no point in trying to compete with Boy Wonder after all! He's so perfect and brilliant and fucking wonderful that having a real seeker is pointless! Well if your so fantastic you can sleep in you own fantastic bed in your bloody brilliant Gryffindor tower with Weasley so you can teach him to pay attention to the Quaffel instead of my arse!" 


	12. Chapter Twelve Co Written with Media Ari...

Making her way to the quittich field in her new robes Draco tried desperately to catch Harry's eye. She was still mad. . . but that was complicated. Why it was complicated was a mystery, but she simply wanted to make up. Hoping to catch the Gryffindors eye so that he could run over and beg for forgiveness seemed to be the fastest solution. After some grovelling and promises she could forgive him in her great merciful way and everything could go back to normal.  
  
And then she could kick his self assured arse on the field.  
  
But he was just to hard to get to. Through the crowd of swirling red and gold she could only catch a glimpse of messy hair before being pulled into a huddle to listen to team strategy and game plans. She was terribly tempted to remind them that she had nothing to do with anything that any of them did. It was like there where two different games being played at once and while it was important for the players of each to keep an eye on the happenings of the other, she really couldn't give a hoot about chaser formation and beater strategies to miss their own players while hitting the Gryffindors next to them.  
  
"Got that, Cory?" A gruff voice barked out while her eyes where turned to search the field for green eyes.  
  
She didn't even bother to turn around to answer, "Catch the snitch before Potter. Got it." A few grunts and a well hidden laugh latter the team started towards the centre of the field and Draco got her first look at Harry while hovering above the ground and fellow players. He gave her a shy kind of smile, as if afraid she would hiss at him in return and all the well laid plans went flying out the window. She smiled slightly back and his grin turned Cheshire.  
  
It wasn't at all how she'd planned it! Pursing her lips in self admonishment she was surprised to hear a small laugh from Harry before he called out to her, "I'm glad you're here. You're my only competition. . . you make it hard."  
  
She snorted to herself and contemplated pointing out exactly what he'd just screamed out for all the crowd to hear but decided to leave it and take that as the closest to an apology she would get right now.  
  
"READY!?!?. . . GO!!!"  
  
At Hootchs scream the both shot upwards into the game.  
  
Flying through the air for the game Harry was revelling in the unexpected foreplay. Having Draco follow him around on the broom trying to capture the snitch filled him with a mounting joy, only partly because it felt like a built up to later activities. The wind was rustling through this hair as Harry made circles in the air with a loud laugh. The triple flip was one of his favourite twirls and he was sure Dracos would follow him through the movement easily, she was staying close in case he spotted the snitch. He didn't see Draco stop and hold her stomach. He didn't see the blond make a pained face and fly down to the ground. He missed it all thinking she was on his tail.  
  
Draco felt a sharp pain shoot through her abdomen and was panicked for a moment before it left again. Shaking it off as imagination she was about to catch up when the pain shot through her again. Only this time it felt like a thousand icy blades cutting through muscle and flesh. Scared of falling from her broom she descended to the ground in confused pain.  
  
Upon seeing her decent Snape started to move through the stands and towards the field. Draco was his only family not imprisoned. She was his responsibility. But much more importantly she was the closest he had ever or would ever get to a child, and as reluctant as he was to admit it he loved her with all of his heart. When he reached the edge of the crowd he spotted the blond standing in the middle of the pitch. He watched, advancing with growing dread, as she clutched her abdomen and collapsed to her knees, mouth opened in a pained groan. Half way across the pitch he looked back to see Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey slowly pushing their way through the crowd with obvious distaste. The Headmaster focused on the game as the players continued and the crowd yelled profanities at the collapsed girl.  
  
When he reached her side he was horrified to find her legs and the grass beneath her covered in blood. The was crying hysterically on her side and screaming out in pain at irregular intervals. Kneeling beside her, Severus removed his cloak and bunched it into a ball, pressing it firmly between her legs to try and stop the vicious blood flow and she cried out for "Uncle Sev" to help her. To make it stop. He was afraid he didn't have the abilities to do so. Pressing his robe tighter he wiped and placed a kiss on her forehead. It was a shocking public display for the normally cold and distant man. But he was terrified and whispering promises as he watched the other two teachers slowly advance, McGonagall in the lead.  
  
The wind was rushing past Harrys ears and his vision was tunnelling in on the elusive snitch. He couldn't afford to take his eyes off of the golden gleam barley visible only yards away, Draco was on his tail after all. The thought of Draco was distracting however, when Harry realised the girl hadn't made a single derogatory comment as of yet. Male Draco had always tried to deride his concentration before. Straining his ears to listen for the familiar sound of another body rushing through the air and another cloak flapping back and forth behind him Harry was somewhat shocked to find both absent. What he could hear however was the screaming boo's from the stadium. Perhaps the Slytherins were playing dirty again? He thought it was strange, but continued on.  
  
The snitch swerved past the Ravenclaw stands and Harry diligently followed only to hear the crowd talking avidly about something other then his mad dash for the golden ball he was slowly moving further away from as his attention slipt. "Typical. . .Faker. . .Cheater. . .Malfoy. . ." and the clincher, "Bleeding" where the words he heard while swishing past. It was enough to turn his blood cold as he swivelled on his broom to see were Draco had gone with the notion looming over his head that she could be bleeding somewhere. A cluster of teachers seemed to be the crowds focal point, and past the black and disrobed form of Professor Snape Harry could see the screaming blond head of Draco Malfoy.  
  
Panic grabbled the green eyed boy as he turned and started towards the scene, only to find his way blocked by a furious red head.  
  
"Where the fuck do you think your going?" Ron screamed out while reaching forward to restrain his hysterical friend. "Ron let go! Something's wrong with Dra...Cory!" The freckled face darkened as the Gryffindor keeper and new captain gave out a frustrated screech, "Harry! In case you haven't noticed we're LOSING to Slytherin! With Malfoy down it's open for you to catch the snitch! We can still win!"  
  
Harry couldn't believe his ears, he looked incredulously back at the other boy, "I don't care about the god damned game!" Harry ripped his hand away and zoomed past the clearly baffled Ron.  
  
High in the stands Gryffindor made their displeasure well known. Amongst the screaming voices Hermoine could be heard screaming out in agitation "What is Harry DOING!! Harry!! HARRY, STAY UP THERE AND CATCH THE SNITCH!!" But the seeker ignored the mounting groans as they spotted the snitch. . . and their seeker avidly ignoring it in his decent in the opposite direction.  
  
On the ground Professor McGonagall had finally arrived. Huffing at the absurdity she called out "Miss. Malfoy, your just like your brother! Do stop complaining! I'm sure your fine!" Until she spotted the clearly panicked face of Severus Snape and she blood gushing onto his robe under the screeching girl. McGonagall froze in shock and immediately regretted her words as Madam Pomfrey rushed past her exclaiming in horror and casting a few quick charms before levitating the still screaming girl away.  
  
When Harry landed it was just in time to see the nurse levitate what appeared to be the badly bleeding and screaming form of his lover. He tried to run after her but found himself once again restrained. Only this time it wasn't by Ron or any other weaker student he might hope to throw off. This time it was the rather strong and much taller ex-death eater and most feared teacher to held tight to his collar, growling in undefined fury as started to drag Harry back to the castle. The seeker tried indignation, alarm, and pleads but nothing would stop the Slytherins decent to his dungeons, panicked boy in tow. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen Co Written with Media A...

Slamming Harry into the wall Snape's face was only a few inches away when he started screaming at the boy. "I told you to watch over her, NOT to knock her up!"  
  
All and any thoughts of screaming back vanished, "She's pregnant?!?" Harry questioned in an astonished whisper. Next to Snapes booming vocals it was barely audible.  
  
"How very like your father, Potter. Of course you didn't know! Why would any of this effect the Great Boy Who Lived! What's a few illegitimate children here and there to the worlds savoir? Had to spread the charm, didn't you? You can just walk away and leave ME to look after them both! You must be so relieved this happened!" Snape's face was an extremely unhealthy shade of reddish purple as he continued to slam the boy into the wall at irregular intervals.  
  
Panicked green eye's looked up into black ones, "Is she alright?! Is the child all right?! What happened?!" Harry was starting to hyperventilate. Horrible thoughts were rushing through his head. What if Draco was dead? No! He couldn't think like that. But she was pregnant with his child? He was going to be a father?  
  
"Don't worry Potter! You don't have to pretend to care now, I've seen miscarriages before."  
  
Harry looked up into the scornful and pained face of his professor and slowly registered this information. He wasn't going to be a father? And Snape thought that would make him happy... "You Moron, I LOVE her, I love her more that life itself, so don't you DARE say I don't care!!"  
  
The hall was suddenly a deathly quiet, the only sound a faint echoing from the boys screamed response. Harry's eyes widened and a hand came up to cover his mouth in a futile attempt to stop the words already escaped. Did he love Draco?  
  
Snapes enraged _expression turned to confusion and calculating calm as he released the boys collar and backed away two paced to lean back on the opposite wall. This changed things considerably.  
  
But before either had regained their voices, loud and pounding footsteps were heard rounding the corner. Moments later a flushed and panting Blaise Zabini stepped out in front of them. The young Slytherin stopped when he spotted his head of house and he doubled over slightly to regain his breath, panting out between gasps for air, "Professor. . . Cory. . .she's in the. . . Hospital. . . asking. . .for you and Harry". Taking a large gulp of air and straightening out he looked directly into black eyes as he continued, "Madam Pomfrey said she'll be fine."  
  
There was a moment of complete stillness in the corridor before Harry broke out into a run. He made his way as fast as his legs would carry him through the labyrinthine halls towards the Hospital wing. The sound of two sets of feet following him could be heard from behind, and still he couldn't bring himself to care about anything ales but to reach his destination.  
  
When he finally reached the hospital wing it was to be greeted with an expressionless Veela and a busy nurse tucking the sheet in around her. Harry realised immediately that something had to be wrong, Draco hated the nurse with a fiery passion. She would never sit still and let herself be tended to by the old woman. "Madam Pomfrey?" He asked just as his old professor arrived and refused entrance to Blaise.  
  
The old nurse looked up at then with sorrow in her eyes and led them to her office to talk. "I'm sorry, Harry. Am I to take it you where the father?" Harrys heart sank. 'where the father', not 'are the father'. It was clear what had happened. Pomfrey continued to explain non the less, "She lost the baby. Veela aren't really made for child birth. . . but I'm sure Severus can explain that to you later. I suppose I should not have let you leave here with her after her change without supplying birth control. I had assumed you would take care of it yourself, but well, given that Draco was a boy I suppose neither of you considered this possibility?"  
  
Harry was staring at the floor blankly. He felt numb. Some small part of his brain was screaming with joy that Draco was not dead. . .but the part of him mourning his child was progressively beating that urge to death with sharp pointy things. It was wrong to find anything happy about this situation. "She should be fine my morning. I'll let you talk to her alone. I have to go report to the Headmaster anyway." With that the nurse stood up and left. Harry and Snape sat in silence for what felt like and eternity. They could hear the soft tick-tock of a clock echoing from the other room. The slight rustle of sheet from Draco shifting in her bed and the slowly fading clinking of Madam Pomfreys heals as they descended down the long corridor. With all the students outside it felt like the school was as dead as the child lost within it's grounds not an hour ago.  
  
Finally Snape stood and spoke, "What are you going to do?" His voice was laced with uncertainty and sorrow. It made the normally booming and malicious voice seem deeper and softer. The words ran over Harrys skin like velvet as he realised what he wanted. He wanted a family. He wanted to have a child, and he wanted that child to be Draco Malfoys. Looking up at his professor the boy filled with new determination. "I'm going to ask her to marry me."  
  
The slytherin seemed slightly taken aback by this statement, but nodded his head and left none the less. Stealing his courage Harry walked into the hospital and up to the blond bed. She looked back at him with empty eyes.  
  
"Draco," He began, "I'm really sorry. I had no idea. . . if I had I may have realised this sooner." The Veela looked up at him, empty eyes filling with confused curiosity. "I love you, Draco. I want to have a family with you, and for us to spend the rest of our lives together. I want to grow old surrounded by our great, great, great grandchildren groaning at us to stop kissing because we're too old it's gross." Harry paused to take a deep breath, "I want you to marry me."  
  
The blonds eyes widened further and a sneer slowly crept to her face, "Marry you?. . . Have you completely lost your bloody mind? I'm not 'Cory', Potter. I'm not some poor Veela girl you got up-the-duff and now you have to make into an honest women. I don't want your Pity!" Draco looked up at Harry with a mixture of scorn and disgust as the Potter boy made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and seated himself on the edge of the bed.  
  
"No, Draco your not hearing me! I LOVE you! Seeing you carried off the field covered in blood was the scariest thing I've ever had to do. This isn't pity and I'm not being a noble Griffindoor. . . I want to spend the rest of my life with you."  
  
Draco shifted uncomfortably and found herself unable to look Harry in the eye. Staring off at the other beds she managed to reply in a small voice, "Cory doesn't plan on being around for the rest of your life, Harry. And Draco's a boy. In case you've forgotten, you're not gay. . . "  
  
Harry rushed in to stop her. He couldn't believe the things Draco was saying! Didn't she understand what the word 'love' meant!?! "Draco! I LOVE you! YOU! Not Cory. . . not some Veela women. I love YOU!" But before he could finish Madam Pomfrey walked over from her office and he found he didn't want to have this conversation in front of the old nurse.  
  
"Harry?" The brunet looked up into those silver eyes trying to converse his sincerity with his own green ones. "Just go back to the rooms and forget it, OK? Just go away. . ."  
  
Confused and unsure of what to do, Harry got up and complied with her wishes. That was not how he had imagined his proposal going. In fact, that was worse then the worst case scenario he had in his head. He hadn't even considered leaving the infirmary still un-engaged. With a slump in his shoulders and a million thoughts rushing through his mind Harry made his way back to his private rooms to sulk. Alone. 


	14. Chapter fourteen Consept Made with Media...

"Harry, is everything Ok?"  
  
Harry refused to answer Hermoine and Ron's questions. He had though coming back to his old common room would help him to forget what was essentially the most humiliating and confusing day of his life. Surely this room of red and gold heroism would make his drama seem unthinkable. Months before he sat in this very chair, almost sinking into its soft fabric as if the room where an over eager house elf trying to make everything perfect, and his mind had been blank. His emotions had been blurred around the edges in the comfort. Nothing was overly important and yet boredom wasn't really an issue. He had been happy here. Now the glaring red walls and golden couches seemed to smother him. The couch refused to let him sit up straight in the manner that Draco insisted he sit, the cushion sucking him into the feathery centre. There was no leverage for his back to straighten, no hard surface to strain his back side into, so trying to accomplish any kind of posture was more pain then it was worth. This served only to make him feel like a guilty child sneaking candy. Draco would rush in here any moment and scold him for slouching like a common criminal.  
  
He found it difficult to think straight, the glaring walls seemed to move and his eyes where constantly drawn to the glowing rectangles of light caused by open windows. Every few seconds the door opened and closed as a army of students stormed in and out. Harry could swear they where simply walking in and out again to annoy him. He tried to calculate the average time a person would spend doing something once leaving the room and dividing it by the amount of times the door opened as if collecting evidence that these enemies where simply walking to the end of the corridor and coming back.. But he couldn't focus on anything for that long.  
  
"Harry! Are you listening to me at all?"  
  
At the indignant tone in her voice Harry turned his head to Hermoine and stared blankly at her. She had once been the most important female in his life. He smiled slightly at the thought that Ron used to be the most important male in his life and both positions had been taken up by the multi-sexual being now locked away in the infirmary. Cory and Draco.  
  
"This isn't funny! This is the first time you've come to spend any time with us in weeks and all you can do stair at the portrait hole as if you want to rip it out. . . or maybe cave it in, but that's not the point!"  
  
"What is the point?" Harry asked her, suddenly wondering if she even knew.  
  
"The point, Harry, is that Ron and I have missed you. And we've asked you if Cory's all right, despite the fact that we hate her, because it's the polite thing to do! And you haven't even answered a single question!"  
  
She was almost puffing with exertion now. The harsh whisper/yell seemed to have taken a lot of her energy and a few strands of hair had broken free from her ponytail in a fluffy mess. She looked like a ruffled hen, certainly a look Draco would never even have to worry about. It was as if her hairs where wired to her emotional well being and any heightening of the latter would be met by wiry strands.  
  
Ron had yet to contribute anything to this conversation but stood proud, slightly behind the girl with a look he surely inherited from his mother.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry told them, "everything's just a little confusing right now."  
  
A slight light of sympathy shone through the red faced fury and Hermoine asked in what was meant to be a pacifying tone "Why don't you talk about it then. What happened to Dr. . . Cory?"  
  
"I can't tell you that."  
  
Hermoine huffed slightly but nodded her head muttering something about patient confidentiality. Despite that particular answer being the most annoying of things in her world, the conformity to rules and regulations seemed to quell any mounting anger. Instead she asked, "Will she be OK?"  
  
"Physically, yes." Harry turned his eyes to the ground. He should have simply said yes, but the centre of at least part of his confusion was Dracos position on the lost child. Did she want children as much as he or was the secretly happy the alien form within her stomach was now gone?  
  
"What does that mean?" Ron finally asked, his voice seemed strange to Harrys ears. How long had it been since he's talked in a normal conversation with his best friend and not been yelled at over a field?  
  
"I can't tell you that either" Clearly he was not answering these questions in the correct manner. Hermoine erupted, "Well for Christs sake, Harry, what can you tell me!?! Why are you so upset if she's going to be fine?"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it" Harry muttered with an almost apologetic look. He couldn't tell her that Draco had miscarried their child, she would almost defiantly sold him in some horrible way. Either screaming about the irresponsibility's of men when it comes to conception and how very stupid he clearly was or, even worse, the idiocy of almost wasting his procreative abilities on an evil slytherin and an even worse Malfoy. His aborted proposal was too humiliating as well. He strained his brain for something he could tell her but she had broken in before anything came to mind.  
  
"Harry James Potter! We're your best friends! Just because you've got some. . . some. . . trollop doesn't mean we wont understand you! Although, god knows, I don't understand your obsession with her. It can't be her personality and quite frankly I think she's lacking character . . . she's like a barby doll! All well and good in theory, but in reality she's just. . ."  
  
"What do you mean it can't be her personality?" Harry broke in furiously. He gripped her arm and moved away form the other people in the room to whisper harshly. The image of Draco covered in blood being dragged away still fresh in his mind with the knowledge that the blood had been remains of his Childs corpse. "There is nothing wrong with her personality! Just because she's not some ugly book worm spouting quotes from hundred year old tomes (as if that shows actual life experience!) doesn't mean she's not interesting! Or nice and funny! And fun! Which is something I'm sure you know nothing about! Would you just stop insulting her all the time? Please? You sound like a jealous girlfriend! If you really have to know I'm upset because I proposed and she turned me down! No doubt she thinks I have the same opinion of her as you do!"  
  
This was clearly the time to leave.  
  
Ashamed and doubly embarrassed for having insulted Hermoine so easily, Harry fled out of the portrait hole. When he opened the door another student tried to scamper in and they collided. Mumbling about the idiots who can stop moving around now that he is no longer there to annoy Harry made his way back to the infirmary. Draco would surely be released soon. Maybe they could talk. Maybe she would like time to consider her proposal before turning him away. . .maybe. 


End file.
